To Reclaim a Homeland, and Slay a Dragon
by The Lupine Sojourner
Summary: Fili and Kili have a little sister named Aili, who reunites with a childhood friend that may become more along the road to Erebor. Join Aili as she quests for her stolen homeland. Movie!Verse, with some SLIGHT changes from Book!Verse. Couples: KilixTauriel, FilixOC (my sister's OC)and BofurxOC. WARNING: Violence, Durin Family fluff, marriage (later) and kissing, but NO smut!
1. The Case of the Over-Protective Mother

**HERE IS MY _HOBBIT _OC'S OFFICIAL INSERTION INTO THE PETER JACKSON MOVIES. BE WARNED: I ONLY HAVE THE EXTENDED EDITION, SO ANYONE WHO HASN'T SEEN IT MIGHT BE SLIGHTLY CONFUSED, BUT IT SHOULDN'T MATTER TOO MUCH. RIGHT? **

**IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ABOUT AILI (THE OC), SEE MY PROFILE! OH, AND CAN ANYONE TELL ME IF DWARVISH LADIES ACTUALLY HAVE BEARDS, OR IF THAT WAS JUST ARAGORN BEING FUNNY? CUS THAT HAS ME ALL KINDS OF CONFUSED.**

**GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

**~LF221**

"-and that's why we are roving around." Uncle Thorin said in that serious, grave voice he always used when telling stories, though his eyes shone fiercely with that longing flame that ignited whenever he spoke of our ancestral home. It was slightly creepy. "The dragon is still roaming inside Erebor to this day!" I flinched, as if burned by the very flames that had ransacked Erebor. No matter how many times I had heard the story by this time, I still found the whole thing a bit beyond my grasp.

A _dragon,_ attacking Erebor? We were supposed to live there with Uncle, as he ruled, according to Uncle's story. But now...a dragon lived there? Man...even the dragon's _name _sounded ominous in my young ears.

Smaug. Like an actual smog, it seems to be everywhere. Everywhere I went (which, all things considered, wasn't far at that point), I heard of Smaug, the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities. And I was only five years old.

=#=#=#=#=

"It's out of the question, Thorin!"

"Please, Dis...see reason!" My uncle was yelling in reply, from inside the closed door of our living room. I smirked. My mother could be unreasonable at the best of times.

"I do see reason! It's folly to even try!" Mother yelled back, and I could see her, even now (several years down the road), getting up in Uncle Thorin's face. Even though I was hardly ten years old at this point, I had known perfectly well what my mother was 'discussing' with my uncle. A quest to take back our mountain home, Erebor. He had wanted her to come with him, with a hand picked company, of course. I had then heard a thump that meant my mother was literally putting her foot down. "What of my children, brother?" She had asked (or rather, demanded), in an only slightly softer tone. "What would I do with them while I am off, getting burnt alive by some dragon, following _your _dream! _Your_ ambition!" My mother's tone had made it _perfectly _clear that she wanted _no _part in this. A sigh came from Uncle Thorin. I could easily picture his hand mentally, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Dis...They are perfectly capable of staying here. There are people who could, and will, watch over them." Beside me my brothers, Fili and Kili, and I had snickered. Nobody in this particular part of town (it had been the only part of town close enough for anyone to easily watch us at home) had ever seemed to like being our babysitters, even when we'd settled down in the Blue Mountains. It had been quite amusing to us that Uncle Thorin had thought anyone would watch over us. Honestly. It also reminded us just how much he wasn't around.

"Huh. Shows ya what you know. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a dinner to prepare." She had said. All three of us had glanced at each other and scurried off.

Our mother didn't (still doesn't) like eavesdroppers.

=#=#=#=#=

We had finally done it. We (meaning Kili and I) had finally mastered the bow! It had taken a lot of accidents and some minor injuries (Mother blamed Uncle Thorin for all of them, which hadn't been exactly fair, but she was..heated then) but we had finally done it! Uncle Thorin had left us to our practice a but few minutes ago.

Mother had came hurdling out of the house, straight toward us with a hard look in her eyes. Quickly, me and Kili hid our bows and arrows behind our backs. Suddenly, Uncle Thorin was there, too. Mother whipped around to face Uncle with quite possibly the harshest look in her eyes I have yet seen on her.

"THIS is what you've been SHOWING my boys - even worse, _Aili_, my _daughter_ \- behind my back?!" She screeched, wrenching the bow from my hands. I had no idea how she knew I had it behind my back, though. "Fighting skills?! So what?! You can take them on that foolhardy quest of yours?!" Uncle Thorin, too, had a harsh look about him. I hid behind Kili, the harsh words making me flinch.

"I was merely coaching them to defend themselves, Dis! By my beard! What if you are attacked?! You never learned how to fight, so I took the responsibility on myself to teach them!" Mother would have killed Uncle Thorin, if glares were daggers. I had been sure the glares exchanged _were_ daggers.

"Oh, aye!" Mum barked sarcastically. "And you want to take my children to that blasted mountain, by Mahal, and get them slaughtered facing a dragon's rage and fire!" My mother seethed back. Kili suddenly ran in between the bickering adults. "And the only thing worse is that you want to sacrifice my only daughter, as well! Honestly, you've got some nerve, brother-mine!" She seethed. I had blinked. Her rage...had at me learning to fight? Not the fact that we, as a trio of siblings, were teaching ourselves? I had felt embarrassed and guilty all of a sudden as mother continued trying to kill Uncle Thorin with her glares.

"Wait!" Kili cried holding out a hand to keep them apart. Then, when he saw he had the adults' full attention, he stood normally again. "We asked Uncle Thorin to show us how to use the bow when we saw him this morning, practicing. He wouldn't show us his sword tricks," At this, my mother clenched her hands into fists, "but he did promise to show us his bow and arrow. We've been at it all day, mum!" I blinked then. Kili had guts for a fourteen year old Dwarf lad. Most adults wouldn't have even thought about going near either our mother, or our uncle when they are mad. Durin forbid when they were mad at each other. And besides, it took even more guts to hid something from her.

It's true, we had seen Thorin practicing this morning. But...after many minutes of watching our Uncle shoot bulls-eye after bulls-eye, we had 'borrowed' a bow and quiver each, and scurried out to the targets Uncle Thorin had been using. We then stood square in the same stance, and fired at the same time. After many misfires, and aggravating hour after aggravating hour, we had finally made those DARN arrows hit the ring around the bulls-eye. We had kept practicing, whilst Fili had 'borrowed' a sword and practice dummy. He had procured a few minor gashes and cuts in a matter of an hour or two, but nothing that bled too profusely. Uncle Thorin had caught us around lunchtime, much to our horror. We just stood there, shuffling and trying desperately to come up with a reasonable explaination for our use of bows and arrows without permission or supervision (which was very unwise, but we had known our mother wouldn't, and we had assumed Uncle was too busy after his training that morning). Until he merely chuckled, and gave us tips and tricks that he himself had learned from Balin, apparently. He had spent hours teaching us before heading inside, chuckling. My mother, however, hadn't been so amused when Thorin had told her what we were doing out here all day. And that's when she had assumed the worst, and had come barreling out here.

Not that we'd have EVER told her that.

By this point, our mother looked softer, not as angry. Thorin, to the contrary, had been trying to mask his surprise and confusion at Kili's half-truth. She let the bow fall into my waiting hands. I silently apologized for my own half-truth as our mother knelt down so she was at eye level with us (she always was considered tall for a dwarf; a trait she apparently passed onto Kili (much to our chagrin)).

"Is this true, children?" I wasn't lying, I had told myself. I'm just not telling every detail of the story. It's not strictly speaking lying. Fili strode over then, thankfully without his 'borrowed' sword. And somehow he had covered most of his nicks and cuts. He smirked.

"Yes, mum. But unfortunately, I got in the way because I came out here after they had started firing, and had to duck. But I as I ducked I tripped into a quiver." He said, playful smirk most likely what had convinced our mother. She whirled, and with one final glare at Uncle Thorin, left to do whatever she does all day.

=#=#=#=#=

"And yer sure you've got everything?" Mother fussed about, clearly worried. I sighed and shifted my pack on my shoulders.

"Yes, mum. And besides, I am now sixty-two years old. If I do forget anything, I can deal with it. And Uncle is going to take care of us. We'll be fine." Here, mum scoffed. She slipped yet another packet of _crackle _(a traditional bread-like Dwarvish traveling food)into my backpack. Then, she lightly shoved me toward the door, where Fili and Kili stood impatiently. They walked on either side of me, and we gazed at each other as we marched toward the waiting Company.

"Finally got away, did ya?" Kili teased. I laughed.

"You know mum means well. She's just...worried because she's letting us go on our first quest." I said, not wanting to embarrass either myself or my mother. Fili threw his arm around my shoulder.

"Aye. The first of many, I hope!" He cheered.

"Wait!" My mother called. We turned, albeit slightly hesitantly. Our uncle was (un)patiently waiting, and yet our mother raced up, clutching three little packages in her hands. "I am giving you these." She said, and gave us each one package.

"We're wasting time! Fili! Kili! Aili!" Thorin called from across the way. We glanced nervously at our uncle, before turning back to our mother.

"We'll open them tonight, mum." I assured her. I shoved my brothers toward Thorin, and took one step before my mother's hand clasped onto my arm.

"Now, Aili...you need to keep an eye on your brothers, ya hear? They'll get into all kinds of trouble if you don't..." She said slowly, stern expression (coupled with her slightly nervous voice) making me slightly nervous.

"Don't you worry, mum. I'll have their backs...I promise. We'll all come laughing and singing back into this home of ours soon enough." I replied with a wink, and ran across and caught up to Thorin, and his Company. Without looking back, Uncle Thorin ordered someone to give me a pony. I tried to ask for them to wait for a mere moment while I got onto a pony by myself, but before I could get the words out, my good friend, Bofur, and my uncle's best friend, Balin, grabbed my pack's shoulder straps and hoisted me up before another dwarf (Gloin?) led my pony, Thyme, up and released the reins. I was plopped unceremoniously onto Thyme, and we continued.

=#=#=#=#=

"So...why are we staying here, in this seedy hotel in the middle of nowhere?" I asked Fili, as we waited for Thorin's friend to tell us where to go. Thorin said he had to get to a meeting of the seven dwarf lords a few days ago before leaving us here to wait for a wizard named Gandalf. Uncle never said why he called the meeting, but I knew; he wanted the armies of the Dwarves with him when we get to the mountain and face the wrath of Smaug. After all...that's why he had gathered this Company. To return to Erebor, and get rid of the dragon, once and for all.

"We're waiting for that friend of Thorin's." Fili replied, snapping me back to reality as he watched the nightlife around us, puffing at his pipe. We all were currently waiting in the dining area of some inn called the Prancing Pony, eating dinner and chatting. Then Bofur came and sat down.

"I think we went too far with the pony incident earlier. I want to apologize." He asked, smiling nervously all the time. It was infectious. I was smiling as I leaned back in my chair.

"It's all good. I mean, no harm done, right? And besides, Thorin wasn't worried, so...neither am I." Bofur's relief was practically palpable. I never could stand to see his face pulled down in a frown.

"Thanks, lass. It's nice to not havta worry about vengeful maidens. Or raging uncles." He said, and walked off to sit closer to the fire with an affectionate pat on my hand and a twinkling wink. I smirked. He was a nice man, I must admit.

=#=#=#=#=

"And you are _sure_ this is the right house?" I asked for probably the millionth time. We had been on a loop around these houses, looking for one with a mark similar to an 'F'.

And we had yet to find it. We were told to look for one 'Mr. Baggins of BagEnd' before we left. We all started searching immediately. So far, though, me and my brothers were among the first to get this close to the house. It was relatively unfair to team up with Balin, though. His knowledge of Geography and the various cultures of Middle-Earth were nearly unparallelled among us Dwarves.

The others were still having problems finding a way into the Shire, as this quaint place was called. Currently, we were walking up the small set of stairs before the door to the house.

"Of course, sis. Trust me." Kili said, and reached up, and rang the bell. I gulped, hoping we had the right house...

Then the door opened, to reveal a short (a few inches shorter than me) man in an open bathrobe, looking flustered. So...that's a Hobbit, huh?

They're shorter than I expected.

**HOPED Y'ALL LIKED THIS RELATIVELY SHORT PROLOGUE! I AM SORRY ABOUT THE PREVIOUS LENGTH OF THIS FIRST CHAPTER. **

**I WAS JUST STARTING OUT ON A JOURNEY I HAVE BEEN MEANIG TO TAKE FOR A WHILE, AND SUDDENLY I HAD A THIRTY-PAGE CHAPTER, SITTING READY TO POST!**

**IT WAS SUCH AN ACCOMPLISHMENT TO ME THAT I SIMPLY COULDN'T (AND TO SOME DEGREE, STILL CAN'T) FOCUS ON MY OTHER STORIES. **

**BUT...I HAVE _NOT_ ABANDONED THOSE OTHER STORIES, SO JUST HANG TIGHT IF YOU ARE ONE OF THIS LOVELY PEOPLE THAT READ MY STUFF! ;)**

**TOODLES!**


	2. Party at Bag-End

**4/12/15:**

**THIS IS THE EDITED SECOND CHAPTER! I HAVE GONE BACK AND CHOPPED OFF CHAPTERS AT PORTIONS THAT ALSO MADE GOOD ENDINGS FOR CHAPTERS. AND CHECKED FOR MISTAKES AND AWKWARD PHRASING, AS WELL AS ANYTHING ELSE THAT WOULD RUIN AN (HOPEFULLY) OTHERWISE GOOD STORY. **

**PLEASE ENJOY!**

**GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

**~LF221**

The Hobbit's shoulders slumped heavily, and he let out a little high-pitched whimper. I now guessed that the poor fellow had already met at least Dwalin, if he was growing to hate guests such as us. As I was standing in between my brothers, I nudged them in the ribs with my elbows, and they suddenly remembered their manners.

"Fili."

"Kili."

"Aili." I finished, and we bowed together. "At yer service." already, Kili was smiling. Fili was, too, just slightly less so.

"You must be Mr. Boggins." Kili chirped. I groaned. How many times had Gandalf said 'Baggins?'

"He means Baggins, sir." I quickly added, with a face-palm, then a massaging of the bridge of my nose. Instantly, Mr. Baggins' eyes went wide and he tried to politely shut the door on us.

"Nope! You can't come in! You've come to the wrong house!" He cried as he did. Fili and Kili surged forward before I could move, and halted the Halfling's quest to keep us out.

"What?" Fili asked. The door slid open with the boys' combined efforts.

"Has it been canceled?" Kili asked. I tried to peer through the wall of backs in front of me.

"No one told us." Fili added.

"Boys!" I said. "Behave!" That didn't stop them, as they completely wrenched the door open.

"Can-No, nothing's been canceled." Mr. Baggins said, looking confused himself as he stumbled backwards.

"That's a relief!" Kili cried, as the boys let themselves in. I rolled my eyes and let out a huff.

This was gonna be a long evening. I then forced a smile, and made sure to be a lot more polite in my entrance.

"Good evening, sir." I said, adding another bow, out of respect for his authority here. He was, after all, the Master of the House here. However, the Hobbit before me simply sent me a darkened look and resumed his handle on the door

"What's so good about it?" He mumbled under his breath, but waved me inside with a resigned expression. I then took a moment while I hung my own bag on one of the empty pegs, and hung the belt with my machetes on top of it to admire this place. It was quaint, and homely, with a simplistic beauty about it. It was fairly similar to my own home, as a matter of fact, if home had rounded halls and doorways.

"Careful with these." Fili warned, but I couldn't see what he was doing. "Just had them sharpened." I could only guess that my brother was dumping his many knives onto our poor host. As I turned to ask Mr. Baggins where the kitchen was so I could make my brothers something to eat (we hadn't eaten much since breakfast, and I didn't want to bother our host with cooking for my brothers; they could eat like horses), I found that Kili was scraping his boots off on a glory box, of all places!

"Kili!" I whined, and politely slipped my boots off. Kili, however, was looking around in oblivious admiration, ignoring me.

"Nice place, this." He noted.

"Yeah." Fili agreed

"Did you do it yourself?" Me and Kili asked at once. Mr. Baggins politely turned his head toward my brother as Fili heaved yet more knives on top of the Half-ling's burden.

"What? No, it's been in the family for years." He then caught sight of his now muddied glory box and blanched in horror. "That's my mother's glory box! Can you please not do that?" Suddenly, there were heavy footsteps, coming our way down the hall.

Is this the burglar Gandalf chose? He doesn't seem to have ever set two feet outside the comforts of his home...and he was supposed to tramp all over the Wild with us...

Then, Dwalin's big, bald head appeared from around a corner.

"Fili, Kili, Aili. Come on, give us a hand." He said with that deep, fairly monotone voice of his, snapping me from my pondering. Dwalin's hand was around my shoulders, and leading me to what I assumed was the dining area before I could protest.

"Mr. Dwalin. Ha, ha." Kili chuckled, and then I saw Balin, and I couldn't help but chuckle. He always has a way of making me smile with merely his presence. He was gazing at our host's dining table with a queer, curious stare.

"We'd better shove this out into the hall, or we'll never get everyone in." He noted. I groaned at everyone's general lack of manners, and zero respect for other's property. Nevertheless, I gripped the edge of the table with everyone else, and helped heave it out into the hallway before Balin throws his back out.

Speaking of other's property, Mr Baggins came walking worriedly up.

"'Everyone?'" He repeated, sounding utterly overwhelmed. "How many more are there?!" He was still clutching Fili's knives and swords.

"Where do ya want this?" Someone asked, ignoring our host's question. I felt bad, but I was too busy focusing on where this table was going to go. I huffed, and was finally able to release the table. I massaged my sore fingers and walked off after our host.

"Uh...twelve or so, Mr. Baggins. I do apologize." I cursed myself that I still didn't know his name. He was dropping Fili's things carelessly in the hallway as he stormed off to answer the door. It had rang while we were moving the table, causing our unfortunate host to nearly panic.

"Oh. No." He groaned. "No, no. There's nobody home!" The Hobbit cried, flinging the sword and the attached strap off, simply dropping the rest of the weapons, which I picked up as I walked. "Go away and bother somebody else! There's far too many Dwarves in my dining room as it is!" He went on, not pausing his storming. I couldn't help but chuckle and walk off after our host. I wanted to see his reaction. And ask him his name. Well, his first name, anyway. "If this is some clothead's idea of a joke," Here, he chuckled with a slightly hysterical edge to it, "I can only say...it is in very poor...taste." He said, pulling the door open to reveal the rest of the Company, collapsing through the door. Instantly, they started floundering about, unable to get up. I laughed out loud as I set Fili's things beside me and Kili's (which I had put with my own weapons, out of politeness. And respect for Mr. Baggins) I saw Bofur, Bifur and Bombur, and Oin, Gloin, as well as Nori, Dori, and Ori. They were still struggling to get out of the tangled mess of limbs and heads they had landed in when Gandalf, Thorin's friend, appeared in the doorway, leaning down to get inside. He had a highly amused smirk on his face. Bilbo, however, looked decidedly not amused as he glared at Gandalf.

"Gandalf." He seethed. He seemed exhausted already, and we hadn't even eaten yet.

I pitied him.

=#=#=#=#=

I felt bad for Mr. Baggins. Honestly, I did. Everywhere one looked, there were Dwarves, either handing me food, or carrying all the chairs they could find in this homely little hole into the dining room. I took the food into the kitchen, and started preparing as much as I thought necessary. I mean, we could eat some of this food raw (such as tomatoes, salad (which there was precious little of) cheese, etc) but I had to boil the eggs, and cook a few of the pieces of meat Mr. Baggins kept in his pantry. Mr. Baggins himself came into the kitchen, and wanted to know what he could do to help.

"Nothing just yet, Mr. Baggins. Just relax for a moment, and-" I started, but Bilbo shot forward into the hall, a frankly hysterical look of pure terror and alarm on his face.

"Not my Grandmother's chair set! Those have been in this family for generations! Put them back!" He cried, and was off like a rocket. Kili was next to visit, and he picked at a hamshack cooling on the kitchen table. I smacked his hand away, however, before his fingers ever touched the meat.

"It's not time to eat yet, Kili!" I admonished in a severe tone, wagging my finger in front of his eyes, before going back to shelling eggs.

"Oh, come on, sis!" He cried, rubbing his wrist ruefully. Thinking quickly, I placed the bowl in Kili's outstretched hands as he reached for the ham again.

"Here! Distract yourself!" I ordered. He groaned. I glared daggers at him, the kind that Kili said reminded him of mother. He immediately sat down and had the eggs peeled in record time.

=#=#=#=#=

By the time we were nearly ready to sit down, Bilbo looked ready to either collapse with exhaustion, or implode with frustration. I sympathized with him. However, once the dinner was this close to starting, there was no stopping it. I tapped Bilbo on the shoulder, and slipped him a platter with a few eggs, some ham, a small chunk of lamb meat, and a couple of tomatoes.

"Whatever you do, don't look in the pantry, Mr. Baggins." I warned. I was about to leave, and sit down when his hand appeared, gripping my shoulder. Mr. Baggins had a face that told me that he was massively ticked off at everything to do with his 'guests'.

Not that I blame him. I was getting fed up with the others, as well. Bilbo had spent most of the time since our arrival racing around, telling everyone not to touch certain items, whether it was food, or chairs, or any other object that we messed with, to be honest.

"Why not?" He growled, eyes narrowed. I huffed, letting my head dip in trepidation. I chewed my lip. I really felt terrible that we had used just about all of his food. But we Dwarves were used to _very _large evening meals, and we hadn't eaten since our frugal lunch on the road. Put those two together, and we can eat an entire village dry, if allowed.

"Uh..." I started, completely unsure of how to explain in a gentle way that our host was out of food.

"Aili!" Kili suddenly cried, with a strained edge to his voice. I gazed around sharply, and found Fili and Kili, heaving a barrel of ale up between them, and nearly failing. I turned back to our host.

"Sorry, but I gotta go, Mr. Baggins!" I excused myself, and trotted over to my brothers, taking one side of the barrel. The small hobbit suddenly ran off to try and get something or other from some dwarf, if I'm not mistaken.

"Not my prizewinners!" Mr. Baggins growled, and wrestled a bowl of quite lovely looking tomatoes from the hands of Ori, who looked quite flustered at the hobbit's glare. We walked toward the dining area, and we had to squeeze past Gandalf in order to do that.

"...there's Fili, Kili, Aili...uh..." He continued to mutter to himself as we passed, counting up on his fingers.

Why was Gandalf taking role-call? Odd. We set the barrel on a stand, and I helped Ori, Dori, and Bofur finish setting places around the table. That done, I was heading out to bring in the meat.

"-one Dwarf short." I heard Gandalf mumble. Dwalin, who was already on his third beaker of beer, was leaning against the wall leading into the dining area.

"He's late is all. He traveled north, to a meeting of our kin. He will come." I heard as I carried the now cooked whole chicken to the table. Dori was walking up to Gandalf as I set the chicken with the other hunks of meat.

=#=#=#=#=

"No chance!" Dwalin roared from right beside me, setting my ears slightly ringing. This is one thing I _hate _about drunk Dwarves. They are _loud_! Incredibly so. I wriggled my finger in my ear.

"We can all hear you!" I growled back. No one had heard me, however, having been drowned out by Bofur at the head of the table.

"Wanna bet?" He cried with an overly excited tone. "Bombur...catch!" He cried, tossing the fourth or fifth boiled egg at Bombur. I mean, Bofur himself hadn't tossed every egg, but it was always exciting (and somewhat gross) whenever the egg landed in Bombur's already overstuffed mouth.

Like it did just now, even from across the table.

The effect was instant. Caught up in the excitement, I roared with the best of them. Then cringed when the crumbs and half-chewed food went spraying everywhere. Bilbo appeared at the doorway, looking slightly mortified at the destruction we were wreaking in his dining area. I felt a twinge of guilt that frankly was washed away with a fresh tidal wave of cheer as Bombur beat the highest number of eggs he could fit inside his mouth at once. Once again, my ears were set a-ringing with the raucous laughter and merriment filling the air.

"Aili!" Kili cried, from directly across the table. I flipped my head toward him just in time to catch a chunk of sausage in my mouth, without knowing how I did it. Everyone laughed, and I felt heat rise in my cheeks. "Told ya she coulds does it!" My brother roared. I roared with laughter.

"No more ale for you, Kili!" I cheered, joined by everyone just as Fili climbed up onto the table, several beakers of ale clutched in his arms. He walked in the narrow spaces between dishes and plates. It was a miracle nothing was...and there go the tomatoes.

"Who wansh an ale?" Fili slurred, and handed one to me, though I didn't...ah, to Mahal with it! "There ya go, sish." He continued. Kili perked up, and motioned our brother over.

"Over heres, bruver!" Ki slurred, and I just rolled my eyes and laughed. After all, he was older than me. It wasn't like I had authority over him. Or Fili, Durin forbid. He would have a five minute explanation as to why I couldn't just say 'You can't have any more ale' and expect it to carry any weight. At all.

"What was that?!" Oin asked, leaning over to Dwalin, who sat beside him. Dwalin burst out laughing.

"I said 'have another drink!'" Dwalin repeated, and proceeded to pour an entire mug of ale down Oin's hearing trumpet. Oin drew it away hastily, and then cleared the ale out by blowing though the end he had stuck in his ear. It made this odd honking noise, to which I, and the rest of the Company, applauded with gusto. Then, as everyone started clinking tankards together, I slowly came to realize that we were engaging in the traditional Dwarvish art of chugging ale, then letting the carbonation out in increasingly loud belches. It would almost be counted as a sin if one did not participate. So up my tankard went, and it clinked with my brothers' tankards, before they went and clinked every tankard within range.

"Ale on the count of three!" Someone cried. I was getting too tipsy, even after just four tankards of ale (much to Fili and Kili's amusement) to notice, though, as the numbers were counted down, and we tipped our tankards' contents, drenching our chests with the excess. Every beard was wet, too. I was thankful I didn't have one, though. It would be uncomfortable, I'd imagine.

Waittaminute...we didn't hit one...we skipped it. Ah, well! Doesn't matter!

Nori was the first to belch, to raucous cheers, followed closely by Ori. Then, surprisingly, I was next. It felt...good to release that pressure building up. Everyone was cheering, and suddenly, I was wondering why I never engaged in this sport. Meh.

"I knew ya had it in ya!" Bofur cried, and I felt an odd swell of pride.

=#=#=#=#=

Dishes, after a large Dwarvish-style meal especially, were _not _fun.

Not at all. We had to wipe down the walls of the dining area and clean the floor before even thinking about clearing the table.

Correction; _I_ wiped the walls, and was about to start on the floor, when Fili and Kili joined me, and did the entirety of the floor while I went to wash dishes. Honestly, sometimes I can forget how immature and childish the pair of them can be (I said, being somewhat hypocritical). However, working helped to steady my body and clear my mind, though I was lucky enough to have most likely escaped without having to look forward to a harsh hangover tomorrow.

Nori came in, and was trying to clean his cup with a doily, of all things!

"Really, Nori?" I chuckled, as Mr. Baggins came walking up behind him.

"Excuse me, that is a doily, not a dishcloth!" He cried indignantly, snatching it away from the now confused Dwarf. Bofur, who was standing nearby, shrugged.

"But it's full of holes!" Mr. Baggins growled.

"It's supposed to look like that." He explained without an ounce of patience. "It's crochet."

"And what a wonderful game it is, too." Bofur replied cheerily. "If you've got the balls for it!" I face-palmed.

Seriously?! I then started laughing, and shrugged, and went back to scrubbing the pots and pans. Mr. Baggins looked positively enraged by my uncle's Company's ignorance, much to my personal amusement.

"Bebother and confusicate these Dwarves!" He muttered, not bothering to do so under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. I chuckled. Gandalf, who had been on approach, seemed to be in a cheery mode.

"My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?" He asked upon noticing the Hobbit's foul mood.

Oh. That's his first name! Bilbo! Interesting. Bilbo's face (heh-heh. I know his name now) was anything less than amused.

"'What's the matter'?!" Bilbo repeated, and followed Gandalf through the hall. "I'm surrounded by Dwarves." He complained. "What are they doing here?!" He demanded. It was then that I noticed Bofur and Nori, wrestling over a string of sausages. Taking out a knife, I quickly sliced the last one off, causing Bofur, who had been clutching the end, to stumble back. He had dropped the sausage, and I quickly picked it up, popping it into my mouth. Bofur tried again, this time earning Nori's attention, and they wrestled themselves into the next room.

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering, once you get used to them." Gandalf replied smoothly as this all played out. Bilbo (Huh, I going have to get used to calling him that now...) scoffed.

"I don't want to get used to them!" I narrowed my eyes, now scrubbing this stupid grill plate with a lot more force than was truly necessary. After that, I lost the conversation. But really, it couldn't have been cheering. Bilbo's attitude was positively over-the-top.

Okay...maybe not quite to that point...but still...

If this is what Bilbo Baggins thinks of us...it's probably better he doesn't come along.

=#=#=#=#=

"...what should I do with my plate?" Ori asked Bilbo, quite politely. I smirked. I felt smug for knowing about a cleaning tecnique, and someone else didn't.

"Kili! We're going to start clearing the table now!" I called, and Kili came running from the other room, still smoking pipe still clutched in his hand. Fili walked up, managing not to burst out laughing as me and Kili got into position. I was last in line, in charge of piling the clean plates, cups, and mugs together.

"Here ya go, Ori. Give it to me." Fili noted, and took the plate in his hands. He immediately tossed it to Kili, and he tossed to the next Dwarf, Bifur. He also caught the next plate, both of which were stacked before tossing it to me, which made catching both undamaged a little harder. But I managed. I heard the familiar clinking of silverware, and knew that the rest of the Company were cleaning the forks and knives.

"Excuse me!" Bilbo cried, reaching out to catch the now flying plate just as Kili caught and tossed it to Bifur. "That's my mother's West Farthing pottery! It's over a hundred years old!" He squeaked (literally), voice growing more insistently pleading as he went on. Kili, unfazed, kicked a mug up, watching it flip around midair before he caught it and threw it. Not to be outdone, Fili bounced a bowl of his elbows before tossing it to our brother. Bilbo then ran up to the table, and watched in horror as the knives and forks were swiped against each other.

"An-and c-can you not do that?!" He demanded with only forced politeness. "You'll blunt them!" He complained. Unfazed, Bofur simply inclined his head slightly.

"Ooh...did you hear that, lads?" He asked. "He says we'll 'blunt the knives'." I chuckled, and placed my hand on his shoulder as the beat intensified.

"Just watch this, Bilbo." I muttered, before scampering back to my position. Just as Kili started the song.

"_Blunt the knives, Bend the forks!_" His voice was deep at first, then mellowed out as he went on. Then, Fili joined him, and the song got more intense.

"_Smash the bottles and burn the corks!_" As we grew more fancy with the chucking, the Company joined in the song. I could hardly sing right due to laughing so hard at poor Bilbo's face. He looked absolutely mortified, shocked, and horrified at what he thought was the demise of his beloved pottery.

"_Chip the glasses and crack the plates!_ _That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_" We turned the beat of the song into the tune of whizzing plates and flying mugs, each trying to outdo the other with fancy twirls and spinning without breaking either the plate or the tune. It was all good fun. "_Cut the cloth! Tread on the fat! Leave the bones on the bedroom mat! Pour the milk on the pantry floor! Splash the wine on every door!_" By now, Nori was kicking cups and plates, too. We loaded poor Ori up, and sent him over to the table, as I was now caught up in some other part of the line. _"Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl! Pound them up with a thumping pole! And, when you're finished, if any are whole..._" Bilbo had given up trying to catch the bowls and mugs, resigned to merely watching in terror. We were trying to sing through our laughter, with fairly admirable results. "_Send them down the hall to roll! That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_" With the last words sung, we had the last of the dishes stacked neatly on the table. Bilbo came shoving through the crowd of dwarves, and was extremely surprised to find not one item damaged in the least, clean and stacked neatly. We rather enjoyed the bewilderment on his poor face, and applauded it loudly.

"Told ya you'd like it!" I cheered, leaning on Bilbo's shoulder.

"Like is _not_ the right word." Bilbo growled, pushing my arm off his shoulder, as Gandalf motioned toward the unharmed dishes, laughing.

"Bilbo..." Gandalf admonished even as he struggled to contain his laughter, and if he was going to add anything, he never had the chance, because there was a sudden trio of fierce, loud and sharp knocks on the door. That could only mean that...my uncle's finally arrived.

Unfortunately, it killed the mood, grim faces settling in all too soon. Poor Bilbo was left in the dark as to who could possibly be knocking _now_, the only clue given was Gandalf's muttering.

"He's here." Bilbo, whose shoulder I was still leaning on, looked over at me.

"Who's here?" I must've had a grim face, too, cus Bilbo didn't look reassured. Then, I smirked slightly.

"My uncle." I replied, and walked off with the others to greet Uncle Thorin. Bilbo was not far behind, muttering under his breath.

=#=#=#=#=

Sure enough, the door was swung open to reveal none other than Thorin. He stepped inside, face slightly amused.

"Gandalf." He greeted, stepping over the threshold. "I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way." He noted. "Twice." He added, unclasping his cloak. "I wouldn't have found it at all, had it not been for that mark on the door." Then, Thorin seemed to notice me, Fili, and Kili's approach, as well as everyone else's. He smiled faintly at us as we came a little closer. Bilbo, looking mightily confused, stepped forward.

"Mark? There's no mark on that door! It was painted a week ago!" Gandalf looked slightly guilty, yet fairly amused as he shut the door, and nodded.

"There is a mark. I put it there myself." He then looked to Thorin, who passed his cloak to Kili and was eying the Hobbit, as if summing him up. Studying him. He always does that to new people, but I wish he would at least tone it down for this poor Hobbit. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our Company, Thorin Oakenshield." Bilbo gulped, and stepped forward. Thorin still had a smirk on his face as he took another step toward the hobbit.

"So...this is the Hobbit." He noted dryly. Thorin had that look about him; the one that meant whomever the gaze was directed at would promptly be interrogated. I sighed. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?" He asked, circling Bilbo, still assessing him. Bilbo looked confused, turning his head to keep an eye on my uncle.

"Pardon me?" Thorin, however, simply continued down his list of questions.

"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?" Bilbo didn't look any less confused. Then, he got this frankly amusing smirk to his face. It nearly got me chuckling.

"Well...I have some skill at conkers, if you must know." Bilbo admitted, with a touch of shyness, I do believe. I smirked. Oh, boy...fuel for the fire, Bilbo...fuel for the fire... "But I fail to see why that's...relevant." He added. Thorin's smirk deepened, and his arms still lay crossly smugly over his chest. This was getting good.

"Thought as much." Thorin noted dryly. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." I chuckled, joined soon by everyone, thankfully. I walked up to Bilbo as everyone went to talk to Thorin in the dining room. I would join them in a moment, though. I again leaned on his shoulder.

"Sorry about that." I apologized honestly. "He does that to new people." Bilbo looked at me incredulously.

"You mean he interrogates people?" He said, huffing indignantly. He did this little wriggle with his nose through his frown that nearly had me laughing. Then, realization dawned. "_That's _your _Uncle_?!" he cried. I laughed.

"Yep. The devil when he wants to be, but he means well." I noted, and walked off. Not for too long, though, before turning back to Bilbo. "You coming?"

=#=#=#=#=

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin?" Balin asked, leaning forward eagerly. "Did they all come?" Thorin nodded once, face grim-set and serious. That look meant bad news.

"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms." Thorin replied simply. He hadn't really looked at the Company properly, devouring soup with gusto. We all cheered. All _seven _dwarf kingdoms, meeting together! What a sight _that _must've been. Dwalin was next to pose a question.

"And what did the Dwarves of the Iron Hills say? Is Dain with us?" He asked eagerly. Thorin looked grimmer still, and refused to speak for a few moments. Then, he took a glance at all of us.

"They will not come."

"What?" I muttered. Everyone groaned and hung their heads. Without the support of the Armies of the Iron Hills...this quest was practically doomed. There was no way in Mahal that we, thirteen ragtag, haggard dwarves could _ever _go toe to toe with Smaug, much less kill the beast. Even if he hasn't been seen in around sixty years...no way. Not even with a burglar to sneak in and assess him before we enter the Mountain.

Apparently, everyone else was thinking the same thing. We all shared the same somber look.

"They say this quest is ours, and ours alone." Thorin continued, voice betraying the defeat he felt. As Thorin took a large swig of ale, Bilbo appeared like magic behind the grey-robed wizard, who was sitting to Thorin's right.

"You're going...on a quest?" He asked softly, as if afraid to kindle any wrath against him. His words reminded me of how little Bilbo really knew about our business here. I mean, I had falsely assumed that Gandalf had fully informed Bilbo of his role in all this...

But apparently not...

Gandalf started slightly at Bilbo's appearance, but recovered composure almost instantly. "Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light." Gandalf half-asked, half ordered Bilbo, and the Hobbit went away for a few mere moments. As Bilbo left, Gandalf produced a map from somewhere deep in his robes, I think, and laid it flat against the table. Almost as if it were planned, once the map was smoothed out, Bilbo was back with another candle.

"Far to the east," He said to no one in particular, (but maybe to Bilbo? (I dunno)), "over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single, solitary peak." He said, and pointed toward the mountain in question. It was indeed, 'a single, solitary peak', with no ranges within at least twenty-five miles. Or least, that's what it looked like. I couldn't really tell. Distances on maps are always confusing.

"The lonely mountain." Bilbo read aloud, appearing suddenly interested in this affair, the candle still grasped in his hand. I grinned and winked at Bilbo.

"That's where we're going!" I cheered, to a few murmured agreements. Gloin then spoke up.

"Aye, Oin had read the portents, and the portents say...it is time!" Dori rolled his eyes; he had little faith in portents and other 'superstitious' or 'unnatural nonsense'. Oin then spoke.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold; when the birds of Yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end." Once again, Bilbo appeared silently and had an adorably curious look on his face.

"Uh...what beast?" He asked. I chuckled, opening my mouth to reply, but Bofur beat me to it.

"That would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible: Chiefest and Greatest calamity of our age." Bofur said ominously. I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Bofur to over-exaggerate our problems. Bilbo took Bofur at his word. His eyes went wide, and he gulped nervously. Taking that as some kind of cue, Bofur smirked and continued. "Airborne fire-breather. Teeth like razors. Claws like meat hooks." Bilbo looked more and more queasy, yet Bofur wasn't quite done. "Extremely fond of precious metals." Bilbo then cut Bofur off, having heard enough.

"Yes, I know what a dragon is!" He cried, fiddling with his fingers. I smirked. Really? He does, does he? If I didn't know better, I would've thought that, if it wasn't in the Shire, Hobbits didn't know about it, unless it was something that directly affected said Hobbits. Ori then stood fiercely, eyes glinting with determination.

"I'm not afraid!" He cried, and we all turned to him. "I'm up for it! I'll give him a taste of Dwarvish iron right up his jacksie!" He shouted. I suspected he was really just trying to work his own courage up, but I let him have his moment. Nori applauded his little brother's speech, but Dori, sitting right next to Ori, pulled him down while ordering him to do so, admonishing him with a severe glare. I was just glad that Fili and Kili weren't that protective any more. They were like Dori (or worse, depending on the situation) when we were younger, but they soon realized (after several bruises, split lips, and bloody noses from brawling when I got really mad) that I could take care of myself.

Bringing things back to the matter at hand, Balin leaned his arms against the table in a very suddenly serious manner.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us." He noted grimly. "But we number just thirteen. And not thirteen of the best, nor brightest." I then set my jaw firmly. I knew we weren't the best in our race, strictly peaking, but...this wasn't _that_ hopeless.

Right? We have each other's backs, we always watch out for one another. We would die for one another, without question. Wasn't that enough?

"Here!" Nori demanded. "Who are you calling 'dim'?"

"Yeah!" I cried, eyes narrowed in disapproval. General hubbub ruled for a moment or two, until Fili banged his fist against the table meaningfully.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters!" He cried, and banged his hand against the table again. "To the last Dwarf!" He shouted, and the gloomy mode was forgotten, drowned out in cheers of agreement. Excited, Kili leaned against the table.

"And you forget we have a Wizard in our Company!" Kili noted. "Gandalf'll have killed hundreds of Dragons in his time!" He added, motioning to the Wizard in question, who shied back slightly.

"Oh, well, no. I wouldn't say-"

Dori piped up then, interrupting Gandalf. "Well, how many, then?" He asked eagerly. Gandalf looked toward him, blinking in mild surprise.

"W-what?"

"How many Dragons have you killed?" Dori repeated, nodding. Gandalf looked embarrassed, refusing to release the smoke he had in his mouth, coughing and spluttering slightly.

"Go one, then." Dori pressed, as Gandalf's coughing got more severe. I bit my lip, worrying slightly for him. "Give us a number!" I then grew frustrated at the pressing little Dwarf, and stood a little too harshly.

"Shut up! Let him talk!" I growled, not knowing why I was this angry. Dori flinched back slightly, as Dwarves rose to either Gandalf's or Dori's defense. Consternation reigned for a moment.

Only me and Bilbo tried to calm the Dwarves down. But only Thorin could actually accomplish it. He shouted out for silence in Khuzdul. And everyone obeyed. Uncle Thorin still stood, and we knew he had something to say. "If we have read these signs, do you not think that others will have read them, too?" He noted rhetorically. "Rumor's have begun to spread. The Dragon, Smuag, has not been seen in sixty years. Eyes look east to the Mountain, assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lays unprotected." Uncle Thorin was raising excellent points, while simultaneously reminding us of why we were gathered here in the first place. "Do we sit back, while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?!" He roared, shaking his fist to raise emphasis, and we all applauded, cheering Uncle's speech. Then Balin spoke up, the voice of reason and sense among us, though it felt like a wet blanket on our previous high spirits.

"You forget: the front Gate is sealed. There is no way into the Mountain." With Balin talking, Uncle sat back down. Gandalf got a mysteriously smug smirk to his face, leaning forward slightly over the table.

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." He said, and then he spun a Dwarvish metal key into view between his fingers. My breath caught as I got a better look at the key. It was the one that Thrain, my grandfather, had held onto that key for many, many, many years...until he went missing. After the Battle for Moria, he disappeared and was never seen again. A decidedly somber mood fell over the Company as we sat in stunned silence. Uncle looked like he was watching a ghost.

"How came you by this?" he breathed, eyes never leaving the metal key Gandalf held. Bilbo looked on in confusion. Someone should tell him all about us at some point.

"It was given to me by your father." Gandalf replied. "By Thrain. For safekeeping" I gulped. Grandad was always a touchy subject for Thorin. The air grew tense and apprehensive as the seconds ticked slowly by. "It is yours now..." Gandalf added, and Thorin reached out dazedly and took it in his hand. Fili then looked pensive.

"If there is a key..." he mused, "There must be a door." I rolled my eyes.

"No, Fi. That key is just decoration." I replied snarkily. Gandalf then nodded (to which statement, I don't know) and pointed with the end of his pipe toward the series of runes on the map.

"These runes speak of a hidden passageway to the Lower Halls." Gandalf admitted. Kili then clapped his brother on the back, looking excited.

"There's another way in." I scoffed.

"No! Really? Never would've guessed..." I said, barely holding my laughter back. Kili frowned at me. Gandalf acted as if I hadn't said anything.

"Well, if we could find it, but Dwarf doors are invisible when closed." He sighed heavily, then pointed at the map on the table. "The answer lays hidden somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it. But..." He added when we started groaning. "There are others in Middle-Earth who can." Gandalf's face then became more serious than I can recall seeing him. "The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth, and no small amount of courage." Here, he glanced at Bilbo, who held his gaze with a touch of confusion, and trepidation. "But if we are careful, and clever, I believe that it can be done." I got the feeling 'we' meant Bilbo. I bit my lip. Bilbo was _woefully _unprepared for this quest. He couldn't fight (yet. I made a note to show him at some point), he would probably hold us back until he got used to being outdoors and riding or walking all day. Ori then piped up as several things clicked in his head.

"That's why we need a burglar!" I opened my mouth as I rolled my eyes to make some sassy remark, but Dwalin, who was sitting next to me, elbowed me in the ribs. He glared at me, and I clamped my mouth shut. Bilbo then leaned over the map, eying it with an almost knowing gaze. Almost.

"Hmm. And a good one, too. An expert, I'd imagine." I pinched the bridge of my nose, groaning. This guy didn't know when _not _to say something. Gloin leaned forward eagerly.

"And are you?" He asked, slightly impatiently. Bilbo then snapped his head up to gaze at Gloin politely.

"Am I what?" Oin leaned his head toward the unfortunate Hobbit, twisting his trumpet toward the Half-Ling as well.

"He said he's an expert." I instantly disagreed, and some Dwarves backed me up. Any talk was soon negated as Bilbo added his own rebuttal to Oin's words.

"Me? No. No, no, no. I'm not a burglar." I sniffed. Isn't that true... "I've never stolen a thing in my life." I agreed with him. He did not have the look and behavior of a thief. He looked more like a man who spends his days quietly and uneventfully. Balin sniffed.

"I'm afraid I have to agree with Master Baggins. He's hardly burglar material." Bilbo nodded toward the senior Dwarf gratefully.

"Nope."

Dwalin, who was now sending a grim set expression toward Bilbo, added his two cents. "Aye, the Wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves." I let my face droop to a deadpanned expression.

"Now, Dwalin..." I started, only to be cut off by Kili.

"He's just fine!" He cried, waving off any doubts. I shrugged in agreement.

"Don't see why he can't go." The effect was nearly instant; everyone was up, giving their opinions, and shouting to be heard above one another. Suddenly, the air grew icy, and the room darkened. I shivered, and was about to launch an argument about why I thought Bilbo would, indeed, be just fine out there in the World when Gandalf's voice rose above everyone's.

"_Enough!_" He cried. All jaws clamped shut. All eyes turned a fearful and frightened gaze upon Gandalf, who was most certainly the source of the darkness and chilled air. "_If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is!_" No one dared speak, breaking whatever spell Gandalf had cast over us. The darkened cold retreated back, and we were left silenced in the suddenly tense atmosphere. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact, they can pass unseen by most, if they choose." Everyone shifted, lost in our private thoughts. I, for one, thought that Bilbo could, and would, be perfectly fine on the trail. I was even happier to know that Gandalf backed me up. "And, while the Dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf, the scent of a Hobbit is all but unknown to him. Which gives us a distinct advantage." Gandalf then focused on Uncle Thorin individually. "You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this Company, and I have chosen Mr. Baggins." Thorin was pensive, and Bilbo was frightened as Gandalf continued speaking. "There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest." Bilbo qualmed slightly as all eyes fixed on him. I noted that everyone still seemed too scared to speak after...whatever it was that Gandalf had done earlier. "And he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know." I flinched subtly as Gandalf's voice took a slightly stern tone, fearful lest that queer icy darkness creep back into the room. There was something about it...I didn't like. "Including himself." Any fear of ire and pitch-black ice were banished by the much softer tone the Wizard took. Bilbo gave Gandalf a somewhat frightened and inquisitive stare. "You must trust me on this." Gandalf half-begged, half-pleaded with Thorin, leaning forward slightly. Uncle Thorin remained stony and silent for a few moments before giving his friend the barest of smirks.

"Very well. We'll do it your way." Thorin finally grumbled, then turned toward Balin. Bilbo, however, seemed ready to protest.

"No, no." He begged, even as Thorin continued.

"Give him the contract."

"No, please." Bilbo pleaded as Balin reached into his shirt, and pulled out the official Contract for Hire, standing and handing it to Thorin. Bilbo was looking more and more queasy as this was being done.

"We're in. We're off." Bofur cheered giddily.

"It's just the usual. Summary of out of pocket expenses, time required, remuneration," Balin said, and held out the contract, waiting for Thorin to take it and hand it to Bilbo. "funeral arrangements. So forth." Thorin finally glanced up and took the document, giving it swiftly to Bilbo, who blanched.

"F-funeral arrangements?" He squeaked, stumbling back as the contract slammed into his chest. Gandalf gave Bilbo an amused, yet concerned look. Bilbo tentatively opened the document. He then gave a sigh as the full paper nearly reached the floor. Thorin leaned over to the Grey Wizard, whispering conspiratorially.

"I cannot guarantee his safety."

"Understood."

"Nor will I be responsible for his fate." Gandalf tensed slightly, looking pensive.

"Agreed." He finally said. I gulped. How could we ask Bilbo to come with us, follow us into unknown and probably fatal dangers? How? We have _no_ right to endanger this poor little Hobbit. None at all, especially after we stole his food and barged into his home. To distract myself, I moved slightly into a better position to hear Bilbo reading out the contract in a voice barely above a whisper.

"'Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one-fourteenth of total profit, if any.'" Oh. Wait...that's what it says? I do believe Bilbo here is the only one, besides Thorin, who has actually read this stupid contract. He then gave off a little hum. "Seems fair." He said, nodding. Gandalf gave a little chuckle. "'Present Company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including but not limited to lacerations.'" He said. Balin and Gandalf then got a confused look about them. Was that not what the contract says? "Evisceration?" Bilbo guessed again, unfolding another part of the contract to get a better view. "Incineration?" He asked incredulously, looking almost ready to puke. Bofur turned to face him, smirking.

"Oh, aye. He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." Bilbo let his arms fall. Blinking and looking around, looking queasy. He whimpered slightly, swaying a little. Balin leaned forward, eying Bilbo with a slightly concerned gaze.

"You all right, laddie?" He asked, sounding slightly amused. Bilbo then doubled over, huffing.

"Huh? Oh, yeah." he gave off several more puffs of air. "Feel a bit faint."

"So we might want to leave him alone." I said, glaring at Bofur, who didn't see it as he stood and moved to lean against the passageway.

"Think furnace with wings." Bofur went on.

"Bofur! Enough!" I cried. Bilbo's huffing and panting grew fiercer.

"Air. I-I-I need air." He complained. He then felt his face and chest with his hand, the swaying growing. Bofur was still grinning that wold grin of his.

"Flash of light, searing pain, then: POOF! Yer nothing more then a pile of ash!" Bilbo, who looked like a wraith now, swayed for a few minutes. He looked like he was contemplating whether or not he could remain standing. Or conscious.

"Stop, Bofur!" I cried, smacking him as I stood to help Bilbo.

"Hmm." Bilbo groaned, staring ahead blankly. For a moment, it looked like he would be fine, and no fainting would occur. "Nope!" He cried, before collapsing against the floor, laying still and unmoving. Gandalf moved to assist him.

"Oh, very _helpful_, Bofur." He growled, but I was already heaving him up, to the mutters and chuckling of the other Dwarves. I didn't care at all as I hauled the poor Hobbit off, and plopped him down in the biggest armchair I could find in his living room.

"Dori!" I called. "Bring some of that Chamomile tea!" I yelled, and heard a small commotion at the table, then all was still as I checked Bilbo's pulse. It was steady. He had merely let it all go to his head. He had probably buckled his knees, too. Not a good mix. Soon, Dori appeared, clutching a steaming mug in his hands. I took it, and set it down near Bilbo's slumped form, and left for some relaxing tobacco smoking by firelight. After a good meal, and plenty of ale, this was the perfect way to round out the day.

And something told me it wasn't over just yet.

**Y'ALL DON'T KNOW HOW TEMPTING IT IS TO MAKE THIS A BIT LONGER, BUT THEN I DECIDED THAT IT WOULD BE SHOVING TOO MUCH STORY AT YOU LOVELY READERS AT ONCE. **

**AND THAT'S SOMETHING I AM TRYING VERY HARD TO AVOID, IF AT ALL POSSIBLE. **


	3. Outta Hobbiton, and into the Trollshaws

**4/12/15:**

**HERE Y'ALL ARE! THE SECOND (OR THIRD, DEPENDING ON HOW YOU COUNT) EDITED CHAPTER!**

**I HOPE READERS EVERYWHERE ARE ENJOYING THIS FIC SO FAR, EVEN IF ONLY WE ARE ONLY ON THE SECOND CHAPTER. **

**GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

**~LF221**

Bilbo was soon awake, content to simply sit by his fire, sipping at his tea slowly. Gandalf had gone into the living room and was currently talking to Bilbo.

I was starting to see why Thorin and the others doubted Bilbo's resolve and bravery. After all, if he couldn't even handle simple descriptions, how much worse would his reaction be to actual violence, right? But I knew better. He had simply never heard anything like the 'vivid and morbid' description Bofur had given him of the pain of incineration.

Thanks a lot, Bofur.

Bilbo needed this, though. He needs to know all the facts before he faces them. But...he hadn't needed quite that kinda description. Bofur, who sat cross-legged in front of the second fireplace in Bag-End, looked pensively remorseful as he took pulls at his pipe, sending whimsical puffs of pipe-smoke curling toward the ceiling as he stares into the flames. I sent up my own curls of smoke as I sat in a nearby armchair, gripping my mother's package in my hands. I had reminded my brothers of theirs as soon as we'd finished dishes. As more smoke clouded the ceiling, I unwrapped it. My breath caught. It was a Dwarfish rune-stone. The color of emeralds, as big as my palm, it was an exquisite gift. In the middle of the stone, carved deep, never to fade away, I found simple Dwarfish runes.

_I will return._

"Mayhaps I shouldn't have been so hard on him." Bofur muttered, halting my thoughts, sending a worried glance toward the hallway that would lead to the room Bilbo and Gandalf were in. I scoffed, slipping my stone into my pocket.

"Probably. But...I also think he needed that. Or something like it."

"You may have a point there, Aili." Kili said, sitting next to me, puffing at his own small pipe. I could see just a tiny glimpse of a sapphire stone clutched in his hand. "Although...if he can't handle _that_, he probably shouldn't come. He's probably better off here."

I frowned. "However...this is the first time he's ever heard something like that, I'd be willing to bet. So...he might just need to be forced out the door. He could probably handle being on our quest...probably." I muttered, gazing into the fire, deep in thought. More smoke traveled to the ceiling. Kili chuckled.

"He'd probably whither away and die at the first hint of trouble on the road. And/or puke at the sight of blood." Although I found his point fairly valid, I disagreed.

"At first, aye. He probably would, but..." I shrugged. "After a while, I think he wouldn't be as affected by it. Remember our first killing, Ki?" I asked. Ki frowned.

"Aye. You puked your guts out. And it was just a buck Uncle shot in the woods." I felt heat rise in my cheeks as Bofur joined Kili in chuckling.

"Only when Uncle sliced it open, revealing it's guts!" I cried, puffing furiously. "I was hardly twenty! They reeked, and with all that blood...it's a small wonder why!" Then, I smirked. "You just sat down right where you were, looking like a pale, quivering baby! It took Fi shaking you and hauling you up to get you responsive again!" It was Ki's turn to blanch, coughing slightly on his smoking pipe.

"I-it's still b-better than puking." He muttered, slouching as far as he could into his armchair, sour glare on his face.

"Maybe..." I took a pull. "Remember how long it took for Fi to stop cutting himself when he practiced with his sword?" Fili somehow heard me, and came over. I could just see a ruby colored stone peeking out of his hands.

"You try swinging a sword around for the first time, and not cutting yourself!" He muttered, indignant, playfully shoving my shoulder. I smirked.

"Well...at least you can't really injure yourself with an arrow, unless you're stupid." Fi's cheeks turned a shade of pink. He focused on his pipe. "I'm just saying..." I said, spreading my hands wide. "look where we are now. Just...stop doubting him, alright?" I just shrugged and sighed as Fili and Kili mulled over what I had said before leaving to seek out more secluded smoking places with Bofur. I was alone now in front of the parlor fire. I drew out my stone again, fingering it gently, admiring it, but was then drawn to a different conversation. Between Thorin and Balin.

"-for when I called upon them, they answered. Loyalty, honor, a willing heart. I can ask no more than that." That was Uncle. I heard what I guessed was Balin's sigh.

"You don't havta do this. You have a choice." Wait...I thought that Balin advocated this Quest. So why is he now trying to convince Thorin not to go all of a sudden, after how far we've already come from the Blue Mountains? I frowned. "You've done honorably, by our people." What? Why is Balin now against this? "You've built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains." That I knew was true. Mother's band had settled in a sort of village in those mountains...a village Thorin and others had built. "A life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth more than all the gold in Erebor." I felt my eyelids drooping, despite my interest in this conversation. I yawned into the back of my hand, and took a confused pull on my pipe. I frowned. Why hadn't Thorin rebutted Balin's doubts? In fact, why hadn't Uncle said _anything_ during Balin's speech?

"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me." Oh. There he goes. "They dreamt of the day when the Dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland." Although I couldn't actually see what Thorin meant by 'this', I can only assume that it was the key Thror had last been in possession of. "There is no choice, Balin. Not for me." And _if_ I had any doubts of Thorin's position on this Quest...that just obliterated them.

"Then, we are with you, laddie. We will see it done." Before I knew it, I felt my grip on reality slip. I fell asleep, the comforting smell of both woodsmoke and pipe-smoke filling my nose.

=#=#=#=#=

I woke to a few fingers in the ribs, Ki's chuckling filling my ears.

"Come on, Li. We're about to start the singing." I smiled. Of course. It was a kind of traditional thing for those of us in Thorin's Company to do after meals, and when we were bored.

"Coming!" I chirped, leaping up, idiotic grin on my face. We moved toward the den, and I found that the Dwarfs were indeed starting to hum, the floorboards trembling slightly as a deep, throaty humming filled the air. I joined in, feeling like I was just there for treble, not bass. Then, Uncle started the singing, leaning against the fireplace in this small den.

"_Far over...the Misty Mountain's cold..._" Ah...this song. I love this one. I also knew why Thorin chose this song. It was symbolic of himself. His feelings about this Quest, and why he-we-were doing this. "_To Dungeons deep...and Caverns old..._" The pipe-smoke and firelight added to the dramatic air as the throaty voices of the Dwarves joined Uncle and sang out mightily. "_We must away...ere break of day..._" By now, all Dwarves were singing...and the air itself thrummed. "_To find our long...forgotten gold..._" Even with the slower beat, this song never failed to excite me. It was a fine tribute to our history. "_The pines were moaning...in the night..._" One thing it never failed to do was remind me of all the times Thorin would lull us to sleep with this very song...when we would force ourselves to stay awake until the song ended and then we would ask for a story about the mountain. Uncle would usually refuse, but sometimes we would burn the midnight oil listening to tales of Erebor's splendor. My eyes closed, picturing the molten gold flowing from the forges, and becoming things of marvelous beauty under Dwarven hammers. "_The fire was red...it, flaming, spread..._" I could always vividly picture in my mind the red and gold flames, eating away at giant forests, consuming them. I could see the huge Dragon, it's mouth spewing fire and death, smashing into the Mountain, invading without a proper opponent. Despite Erebor's armies, which were some of the finest in Middle-Earth. It had meant nothing to Smaug... "_The trees like torches...blazed with light..._" What a sight that fire must have been. Beautifully dangerous, consuming everything in it's wake...red and gold under a pale moon's light...

With the song concluded, we all drifted away to seek out decent resting places, taking up many of this poor Hobbit's spare bedrooms (he had a good few). Somehow, I ended up being stuck in the living room with Ori, Bofur, and my brothers. I settled in the same armchair I had been smoking in earlier. I rolled out a blanket, wrapped it around me, and promptly fell asleep.

=#=#=#=#=

Glaring sunlight filtering through Bilbo's windows washed over my eyes right as dawn appeared in all it's splendid beauty, coating the land in rays of warmth and dispelling the cooler night air. I groaned, yawned cavernously, and stretched luxuriously before standing up and slipping on my boots and vest, clipping it securely against my chest. Grabbing the belt on which I hung my Dwarven machetes, and other things (like my quiver and bow, for example) I buckled it snugly around my middle as I walked toward the kitchen, praying I wouldn't wake Bilbo as my boots made much more noise than I would have liked. In fact, it could be enough (what with these echoing halls and chambers) to wake the Company. Though, somehow, I doubt it will.

=#=#=#=#=

Those that had slept in the living room with me were the first to wake as I fried a little bacon, and beat up a few eggs to scramble before laying some sausages in a pan to roast. Fili and Kili sought out a beverage that we hadn't had in a while; coffee. We had only had it whenever we stopped in a proper village or city of Men, and they longed for it again. They found a medium sized earthenware jar of the dark grounds, and I told them to use it sparingly, giving them the 'Mother's Glare' for good measure. Within minutes, there was the strong smell of delicious coffee invading the house, coaxing Balin and his brother, Dwalin, out of bed and into the kitchen. I told them we had a very limited supply of this delicious liquid, and warned them against stealing coffee from out of Thorin's mug (he could be a _beast_ when he wants to be). They complied, and soon we were settled comfortably in Bilbo's living room, plates of food and mugs of coffee resting on our knees or in between our legs. As we ate, I heard Nori, Dori and Bombur (his footsteps seemed to rock the house) enter the kitchen and come out minutes later with mugs of their own and plates to match ours. It was a good thing I had made so much scrambled eggs. At this rate, we'll have just enough to eat before we head out...with or without Bilbo, whose face we had yet to see since last night. I hoped he would come. It would really be the best thing for him. Oh, he'll be a pain in Uncle's backside for a while, but...he'll get used to it, I'm sure. He may even start to enjoy it before we reach Erebor. Maybe.

Time will tell.

My musing was interrupted as Thorin came out of his room, and served himself with the last of the food, informing me that we would need more coffee and eggs, as Bifur, Oin and Gloin had yet to come out. Grumbling, I scrambled up a dozen more eggs, and fried a little more bacon and sausage. Bofur was soon joining me as I made another half pot of coffee, which should do us fine, if we're careful.

And here the latecomers are. I told them to get what they wanted of the food, but to be slightly stringent with the coffee. Bilbo would most certainly need some. As the Company finished breakfast around 11:00am, we gathered our gear, and set out for the Prancing Pony at about 11:35 or so, to pick up a few more supplies, and ponies for the journey. I had left a note for Bilbo, telling him when we departed, and that I had made him up a pack from an extra backpack someone didn't need anymore. I had slipped in the coffee grounds. On particularly nasty mornings, there's nothing like a mug of coffee to cheer one up. I had found a bedroll in a closet, and that went in, too. I also informed Bilbo of the need for extra cloths, as much money as he could spare, and anything else he thought he might need. I didn't want to search his bedroom. Or even enter it.

I, for one, have not given up on Master Baggins.

Unlike most of the present Company.

"What did I say, eh?" Someone groaned, snapping me back to reality. "Waste of time."

"Ridiculous notion." Dori added. "Use a Hobbit? A Halfling? Whose idea was it anyway?" That was just the start. There was also the betting pool. Many of the Dwarves bet that Bilbo would not come. Me and my brothers, and Gandalf, chose to trust the Hobbit's Took-ish side (whatever that meant) and bet that he would. A few other joined us, but for the most part, we would end up poor and penniless if that blasted Bilbo didn't show-

"Wait!" Came a panting, hurried cry from a little ways behind us. We paused, and saw a familiar brown, curly-haired head appear from out of the woods. Speak of the Halfling, and it shall appear, I mused. "_Wait_!" He cried again, this time more urgently, before realizing that we had stopped. "I signed it!" He proclaimed, raising his arm, contract clutched in a death hold in his hand. I breathed a sigh of relief. I would now bolster my purse a little. The contract flapped in the light breeze as Bilbo walked over to Balin, who took the document with a cheery gleam in his eyes. He was one of those few who trusted Gandalf. He brought out his reading monocle, and inspected the signature for a mere moment or two before folding up the contract.

"Everything appears to be in order." He said jovially, "Welcome, Master Baggins, to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield." Fili, Kili, and I fist-pumped, grinning wildly. There was chuckling amidst those who had bet on Bilbo's arrival, and muttered curse-words from those who chose poorly. Thorin simply turned his pony back to the path, grave and serious look never leaving his face. Although...I thought I saw the hint of a smirk as Thorin ordered someone to 'give Bilbo a pony'. I was about to suggest we simply move the saddlebags a little on one of the supply ponies, and let Master Baggins get up on his own strength, when Bilbo got a somewhat frightened look about him, and started waving his arms.

"No, no, that won't be necessary. Thank you. I'm sure I can keep up on foot." He protested, even as Fili and Kili edged nearer, and someone else brought a pony forward. "I-I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know?" He went on. I smirked. He was gonna need for than his 'fair share of walking holidays' before he could keep up with ponies all day. "Even gotten as far as Frogmorten once- -Aaagh!" He shrieked as Fili and Kili hoisted him up and settled him down on the pony that had somehow already had it's saddlebags adjusted. I moved my pony, Thyme (a rather strong, healthy young thing), to settle in right beside Bilbo. I chuckled.

"Sorry about that. They did that to me, as well." Bilbo glared at anyone around him, focusing on me.

"Why?" I shrugged.

"Dunno. It's just a thing with them," I said, gesturing to the Company at large, "I suppose." Bilbo looked like he's sucked a lemon.

"Well, I'm glad to see _you're_ so high above all that." He grumbled. Then looked guilty. "Sorry, I just..."

"I know. You're not having a good day." I smiled. Bilbo nodded, and we rode in companionable silence. Oin then spoke up.

"Come on, Nori! Pay up!" We had convinced Oin to bet with us, and Nori chose the poorer path. He groaned and chucked a small amount of coin at Oin, who caught it skillfully. Then, Dori chucked the money he owed me toward my face, and I caught it mere inches from my face.

"Heh-heh. Thanks, Dori!" I called. I got a sour glare in return. Kili then grinned, and turned to collect his payment.

"One more!" He called, then Ori, who had been easily convinced not to bet with us, gave his gambled coins a half-hearted toss. Bilbo had to lean over and catch it, handing it to my passing brother with a slightly confused expression.

"What's all this about?" he asked me, but Gandalf beat me to the reply.

"Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you'd turn up." Bilbo nodded, humming. "Most of them bet that you wouldn't." He added. Bilbo bit his lip.

"And that's why I am thirty coins richer!" I cheered, grinned lopsidedly. Bofur, just ahead of me, turned in his saddle to face me, looking sour.

"Forty-five coins, lass." He said, and I caught another small bag of golden coins in my fist. As I added these to my stash, I couldn't help feeling slightly guilty about stealing Bofur's coins. More so than the others, curiously. Probably just because he's my greatest friend, even though he's...been out of the picture for a really long time. Bilbo turned to Gandalf.

"And what did you two think?"

"Well..." Gandalf then cleared his throat, and I heard a heavy sigh from up ahead, where Uncle was, and barely had time to move my head aside as a coin bag came hurdling at the grey-wearing Wizard. He caught it in one hand, and reached for his knapsack. I raised my eyebrow in confusion. Thorin took part in the gambling?

"My dear fellow, I never doubted you for a second." Bilbo then turned to me. I clapped his shoulder.

"I trusted Gandalf's judgment. And it seems to have payed off, too." I said merrily, tapping my coin sack. Bilbo seemed to cheer up a little at this, and we rode for a while in silence, before his sneeze broke the silence.

"You alright, Bilbo?" I asked. He then sighed in frustration.

"Oh, it's horse hair. Having a reaction." He moaned. I rolled my eyes. He wasn't allergic to horse hair, or he'd be breaking out in nasty hives all over the place. His nose was just adjusting to the unfamiliar scent and feeling of being around a horse. I had sneezed a few times when I was starting out, as well. Bilbo, who was searching his pockets for something, suddenly got a wild, almost panicked look about him.

"No..." He muttered, getting more and more frantic. He then whipped his head up. "Wait, wait! Stop!" He cried, voice ringing with desperation. "Stop! We have to turn around!" He insisted, and we reigned in our ponies, to several disgruntled mutters. Myself included.

"What on earth is the matter?" Gandalf demanded. Bilbo then glared at the Wizard with anger and irritation blazing behind his eyes.

"I forgot my handkerchief." He growled harshly. I scoffed.

"Oh, is that all?" I said with mock surprise. "I thought it might be something of actual value." Bofur gave the barest of smirks and pulled out a tattered and rough dish cloth. "Here," He called. "use this." He then chucked it at the flustered and angry little Hobbit, and Thorin looked only slightly amused as he called for us to move forward. Gandalf frowned.

"You'll have to manage without pocket handkerchiefs and a good many other things, Bilbo Baggins, before we reach our journey's end." He admonished, but he had a tiny hint of amusement in his voice. Bilbo blanched slightly, but made no comment. "You were born to the rolling hills and little rivers of the Shire." Gandalf mused. "but home is now behind you. The world is ahead." He said, and we rode over hills of various sizes, through small forests and across brooks and beside streams in silence. By the time evening came upon us, we found a sizable outcropping of rock that Thorin deemed good enough for a campsite, and we dismounted, and stretched our weary legs. Bilbo hardly moved at all, and when he did, it was always with a stiff, awkward gait. I smiled.

"First time riding, eh?" I mused, leaning against a tree as Dwarves bustled about, gathering wood or getting food started. Bilbo gave me a glare.

"Yes, thank you very much." I sighed.

"You'll get used to it. Promise." I muttered, before pushing off the tree to help Bofur and Bombur prepare something decent for dinner. That stew they were making would be ruined if they kept trying to stir it senseless. "Oi! Do ya wanna wreck our dinner, gentlemen?" I demanded, as Bofur wisely surrendered his ladle to me. I sought out some salt and added a few pinches, stirred a little, then tasted it. Not bad. I then asked Bofur and his brother to get the sausages and mushrooms out, as I wanted to bolster the frankly thin and wanting stew. They complied, and it did indeed complement the stew perfectly. Bofur beamed at me.

"Didn't know you could cook so well, lass." I scoffed.

"Who do you think made breakfast this morning, or dinner last night?" Bofur blinked.

"Oh. Right."

=#=#=#=#=

After dinner, but not before dark, we were all relaxing after a hard day's ride. I then remembered that I had told myself I would show Bilbo everything I knew about fighting, so that if we come upon that kinda situation, he can actually do something, and not just be a liability. I stood, and sought out the little Halfling, who was sitting calmly by a stream, scrubbing the pot with the rag Bofur had given him. I coughed, and Bilbo whirled to face me.

"Ah! Aili! You startled me there." I tittered.

"Sorry. I just thought I might show you a few tricks to get you out of a tight spot, if we encounter anything...dangerous and threatening." Bilbo blanched.

"Oh, n-no. I-I don't think- -" I cut him off with a raised hand. His mouth shut and his face fell.

"This needs to happen. There's no telling what we'll find out there, and I don't want to see you injured." I explained, and Bilbo mulled this over, nodding his head this way and that. Finally, he groaned.

"Alright then." I grinned.

"Good! First thing you could try is simple negotiation. Try to either befuddle of bewilder your opponent."

"Like a game of riddles?"

"Quite! Only without real riddles, unless that's how the scenario plays out." I admitted, shrugging. "Now, another thing is to never let your guard down. Very important. If you do..." I warned, before leaping forward, and poking him in the ribs, "you're dead." He clutched his ribcage.

"OW!" I smirked.

"Now, all you need to do to avoid being poked in the ribs would be to either catch the offender's wrist, or to strike their hand away. Same principal works for any other attack, such as a kick. You will probably encounter things with swords, so your reflexes can't fail you. But, if swatting away hands is not a tactic available to you, then you need to know that the place in between the thumb and pointer finger is especially painful if you press it right." I said, before gripping his wrist tightly as he tried to walk away, thinking I was done talking. Bilbo turned back to me with a wild expression.

"Let go! I need to get the pot back."

"I told Balin where I am and what I'm doing. We're not missed." I explained, not letting his wrist go. In fact, if anything I just squeezed harder. "If you want your wrist back, you'll havta earn it back. Press in between my fingers, or we'll be here all night." Bilbo looked wildly about for any dwarves, but found none.

"Let go, Aili!"  
"Earn your wrist back." I repeated, squeezing tighter. Bilbo squeaked and jabbed his pointer finger at the spot I told him about. My hand suddenly flared. I hissed slightly, and released his hand. "Good. Now, another vulnerable area if their wrists are protected or unavailable is the base of the throat. If you can't reach that, and it is a male offender...his...uh, in between his legs is especially effective." I said, feeling slight heat rise in my cheeks. I swallowed. "And that's just if you're defenseless. You also need to know how to use both a sword and shield. Now..." I said as I turned and sought out two fairly straight sticks. Bilbo was pale when I returned moments later. I tossed one to him, and he fumbled before catching it. I assumed a fighting stance, and had Bilbo stand beside me and do the same. I showed him the basic swings, and how to block different blows effectively, without numbing your entire arm. After I was confident he knew enough to start some light sparing, I faced off against him, much to Bilbo's horror. I coached him as I swung at his legs, arms, head and chest. Although I rarely meant to strike his head. He tried to block my blows the way I showed him to, but I taught him then the necessity of improvisation. By the time darkness fell, Bilbo was covered in bruises, and had a sour look about him. But he also, if I'm not mistaken, had a small gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. Maybe that's simply due to the fact that he thinks he's accomplished something simply by surviving our sparing. And I suppose that's not a bad feeling to hold. Chuckling, I carried the pot back, while Bilbo rubbed his sore arms and ribs. By the time we got back, the Company was settling down, starting to set up their bedrolls around the firelight, and I found Fili and Kili enjoying a little pipe-weed by the fire. I grinned, and joined them excitedly. I was still revved up from that sparing, though it was far from what I was used to. I pulled out my trusty pipe, and lit it before fully relaxing, taking the first puff of the night as I leaned back against the rock wall.

"How'd he do?" Kili suddenly asked, smirking. I huffed.

"Not bad. He was panicking, and could barely remember how to hold the blasted stick, much less how to swing it, but...all in all...with a little more work, I think we could make a fairly decent warrior." I shrugged, and puffed noncommittally at my pipe. I yawned and rolled out my bedroll, sitting on it, but not wanting to lay down yet. Bilbo did. Within minutes, he was still.

Then he turned over, huffing. This repeated for several minutes, until he ended up on his stomach. All the while, Fili, Kili and I had been watching with amusement, talking about this and that, and pulling at our pipes, content in this cool night air. Kili eventually took up whittling a small piece of wood he had found while gathering firewood. Bilbo sat up, exasperation clear on his face. He stood and stretched a little before walking over to where we had secured the ponies earlier. I watched as he brought out an apple from his pack, giving to his pony, Mertle. He whispered something to her, glancing around conspiratorially. Then, he whipped his head up as a harsh bark broke the silence within the forest. There was something decidedly Orcish in it's nature...but there wouldn't be Orcs around here. All the same, it was as good an opportunity as any to have a little fun with our burglar. We forced our faces to look horrified and slightly panicked as Bilbo turned to us.

"What was that?" We gave off a little more panic.

"Orcs." Kili breathed, glancing out to the surrounding forest apprehensively. Bilbo paled a little.

"'Orcs'?" He repeated, creeping nearer. I felt a twinge of guilt for the poor hobbit, yet felt he needed this, so I kept up the charade. Only to nearly drop it again as I heard a sharp, slightly raspy inhale, coming from where Thorin lay resting. Any mention of Orcs, and Uncle Thorin immediately tensed up.

This was no exception. He glanced around, and I bit my lip, hoping Thorin knew us well enough to tell when we were merely joking.

"Throat-cutters." Fili added, puffing lightly at his pipe. I saw Uncle stand and walk a short distance away, and groaned lightly. I hoped he could tell we were poking fun at Bilbo, who couldn't know the difference. "There'll be dozens of them out there. The lone-lands are crawling with them." No, they really weren't. At least, not that I know of. Gandalf had said that Orcs were, in fact, rarely seen around these parts. I merely nodded mutely, not trusting myself to open my mouth. Thorin sat back down where he had been leaning against a rock, still tense. Couldn't he tell we were joking?

"They strike in the wee small hours of the night, when everyone's asleep. Quick and quite. No screams." Kili chipped in, whittling forgotten with this new entertainment. Somewhere nearby I heard Gandalf's steady puffing. Considering what I knew of Orcs, I doubt that they would not take the time, nor even have the smarts to attack this way. They would simply run in, and all sense would be lost in the screams, fighting, cruel laughter and blood. "Just lots of blood." Okay...that much was true. There was a lot of blood. But Bilbo didn't need that visual picture yet. I liked the Hobbit that paled at even the mention of violence and blood. He was like the sweet little brother I never had. I suppose this is how Fili and Kili feel about me. Then, the boys decided to end this charade. They looked at each other, and starting chuckling. Bilbo laid a hand on his chest and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. I smiled. Then lost it as Thorin growled as he came walking toward us.

"You think that's funny?" I blanched. I had completely forgotten about the Battle for Moria, all those years ago... "You think a night raid by Orcs is a joke?" Fili and Kili blanched now, as well, realizing they had pushed it too far. Kili opened and closed his mouth before speaking.

"W-we didn't mean anything by it." Kili said, by way of apology, eyes now firmly fixed on the fire. I bit my lip again. Why hadn't I stopped this? I could clearly see that Uncle was rattled a little by this prank. His eyes narrowed as he passed by the fire.

"No, you didn't." He seethed darkly, giving us a darkened glare. And with the firelight playing over his face...it made it all the darker, somehow. "You know nothing of the world." He left to his private thoughts, facing the edge of the cliff. I felt my stomach churn in guilt as I thought of what Thorin must be thinking about. The day he lost his grandfather, and too soon after that...his father. Although I had never known them, Thorin spoke of them on occasion. I knew enough to miss them. Balin started explaining it to Bilbo after a few moments, but I hardly paid attention. I had heard the tale enough times. I stoked the fire, deep in thoughts over several things.

I remembered that whenever Thorin mentioned Elves in his telling of the Fall of Erebor, his eyes darkened, and he seemed to spit out venom in his words. I always thought that it was somewhat sad how quickly age-old friendships and alliances can be broken down. Before Smaug, Elves and Dwarves, while not entirely friendly, cooperated with relative ease. The Elves of Mirkwood and the Dwarves of Erebor were an example of that copoeration, and even that bordered on friendship. How petty and insignificant are those things that tore the two races apart. Because of simple greed and alleged spite, Thorin bore heavy resentment toward the Elves, avoiding them like the plague. I understood what happened the day Smaug attacked Erebor. How Thranduil had turned his back, for the good of his kinsfolk, earning one Dwarf's bitterness for nearly an entire lifetime.

=#=#=#=#=

By the time the tale was over, everyone was standing, the air thick with emotion. Bilbo was asking what had happened to the Defiler after the battle, and Uncle reentered the campsite with a dark, icy, and curt reply I couldn't bring myself to listen to fully as I packed my pipe and tobacco away and settled myself in my bedroll, wearied from the long day.


	4. An Unexpected Adventure in a Troll Camp

**4/18/15:**

**HERE IS THE NEXT EDITED CHAPTER FOR Y'ALL! HOPE YOU LIKE IT!**

**GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

**~LF221**

What woke me was not someone moving about. It was not dawn's first light, gracing the sky. It was not even some animal creeping about. No...it was a massive down-pouring of rain from the sky, drenching me and everything I had that woke me. Already in a sour mood, I saddled my pony and rode out in the rain, hood over my head. Since my pony got a little skittish during rainstorms, it had taken longer, and I was last out of the campsite. I nibbled at soggy bread and cheese, sipping at my water-skin. There was too much rain for a fire, even for our resident firelighters, Oin and Gloin. After a while Bofur, who had somehow lit his pipe, puffed at it before realizing that it had gone out a while ago. Then I heard Gandalf's voice rising above the others', silencing them.

"It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done." What was that about? I thought as I tried to spur Maggie on, but she wouldn't go any faster, and was content to promptly ignore my kicks and clicking. Gandalf and Bilbo then had a discussion that sounded kinda interesting, but I couldn't make out every word. It was something about other Wizards in the world. Biting back complaints and curses, I adjusted my cloak, and rode on in stony silence.

=#=#=#=#=

The rain continued for a few days, much to everyone's irritation. We needed shelter to wait out the storm, and none was available.

Until tonight, that is. We had found the wreckage of what looks like a farmhouse, and better yet, the rain had ceased at around midday, and now we were dry and happier. We cheerily went about setting up camp, and I distantly heard a rather confrontational conversation between Gandalf and Thorin, but then I was swept out to the woods with Bofur to gather wooden logs.

"Come on, lass. We need to get wood for Oin and Gloin before Bombur, you and I can cook up a stew." he explained.

"And what makes you think I would let _you_ two anywhere near that stew? You nearly ruined it last time." I teased, poking his ribs before jogging quickly ahead and grabbing some larger sticks. Bofur scoffed.

"You mean Bombur nearly ruined that stew. I told him not to stir it so much, but he wouldn't listen, and-" I cut him off there and smiled.

"Bofur...I was teasing. I just felt like the broth needed something, and Bombur wasn't going to, so I made sure it was satisfactory. I think you can cook fairly well, really." I said, and I could have sworn our cheeks reddened slightly...both of ours, oddly. I smiled and gathered as many logs and sticks as my arms could manage. Oin and Gloin were very pleased with our firewood.

"Thanks, you two! This'll do nicely!"

By this time, Bombur was already setting up his cooking pit.

"You two were gone a long time, Aili." Bombur noted dryly, not turning to face me. I rolled my eyes, blushing, and went to find a stream I could use to get enough get the stew going. I looked around and found that Gandalf was not present. Frowning, I decided to pass the time (and distract myself) by more sparing with Bilbo. I called him over, and as soon as I brought out the sticks we had used during our last session, he blanched.

"Oh, please. The last round just healed."

"We need to toughen up that skin of yours, Master Baggins, before we end up in battle." I reminded him, and he sighed, but caught the stick easier this time.

Fifteen minutes later, Bilbo was dotted with bruises, and I (surprisingly) also had a few. The gleam in Bilbo's eyes was brighter than last time, probably due to the fact that he had struck me a few times.

"Good session, Bilbo. We'll make a proper warrior outta you yet." I said, arm around his shoulder, nursing a bloody nose (he had gotten one good hit to my face) as we made our way toward the campsite. At this time, the stew was done, and we were sitting down to a bowl in minutes. After I was done, I began to wander where Fili and Kili went to, before remembering that Uncle had assigned them to watching the ponies.

They must be hungry.

Apparently, Bofur thought so, too. He just scooped some stew into bowls, while Bilbo flitted about, wandering when Gandalf would be back. Bofur assured him the wizard would be without even looking away from the pot.

"Here, do us a favor. Take this to the lads." he said, handing the bowls off to Bilbo. He then turned to Bombur, who was trying to sneak yet another bowl. As me and Bilbo left to check on my brothers, Bofur smacked Bombur's hand away, but by then I was too far away to hear what he said in rebuke.

=#=#=#=#=

Immediately, I knew something was wrong.

First clue? Fili and Kili didn't accept soup.

Second clue(s)? The uprooted trees. Fili and Kili gazed at them, fixing their eyes only on the scene before them. Bilbo held out his bowls of stew as I sucked mine down.

"What's the matter?" Bilbo and I asked in unison. Kili gulped.

"We're supposed to be looking after the ponies." He said. Fili then spoke up, a look of worry stamped over his face.

"Only we've encountered a...slight problem." He said, nervously glancing at Kili, almost for reassurance. He, too gulped.

"Spit it out." I growled. Kili groaned.

"We had seventeen."

"Yeah...so?"

"Now there's...fifteen." My eyes widened, and (not that I doubted Fili's word) did a quick count of the ponies. Indeed. We were missing two ponies.

Hammer and stone, Thorin was gonna kill us.

Guess now I know why my brothers didn't want to join us. Why they just stood there in shock. Nevertheless, I raced ahead to look around for the missing ponies. No trace of them, just the ominous uprooted trees. I ran a nervous finger through my hair.

"Blast it all! Where could they have gone?" These trees had been like that when we got here, but...there was something about them that made my hackles rise, and the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Something had knocked them down, and was big enough to have done so easily, almost without thought, by the looks of it. I didn't want to meet that thing, whatever it was...

Kili then spoke up, interrupting my thoughts and musings, coming around the bend of the tree. "Daisy and Bungo are missing." He reported. I bit my lip.

"Well, that's not good. Not good at all." Bilbo replied, wandering around, still holding Fili and Kili's stew. "Shouldn't we tell Thorin?" Fili blanched.

"Eh, no. Let's not worry him." Fili said nervously, biting his lip. I rolled my eyes.

"We'll tell him later, Bilbo." I said, patting him on the shoulder. Fili then smirked.

"Besides, as our official burglar, we thought...you would like to look into it." Bilbo paled, but swallowed, and came forward, waving the bowls to indicate things he was talking about.

"Well, uh, it looks like something big uprooted these trees." I scoffed.

"No, it just fell for no reason." Bilbo opened his mouth to reply, but Kili kept talking.

"That was our thinking." Bilbo continued looking around the trees.

"It's something very big, and possibly quite dangerous..." A few moments ago, I had noticed a light, and had walked forward a few feet. Fili now noticed the light, and beckoned everyone over. I then focused on the grunting, heavy laughter, and raucous grumbling coming from a huge light a ways into the forest. Bilbo asked what it was.

"Trolls." Me and Kili responded in unison. With glares of hatred, we moved forward to investigate. Bilbo was right behind us. We hid behind a tree, and watched as a large, ugly troll stomped past us. It carried two ponies under it's arms. I blinked. How had it gotten past us? We should have heard it long ago. Anger flared up in my stomach. This troll had to be stopped. As soon as it passed, I stood and tailed him, regardless of Fili's arm, gripping mine. I pulled my arm through, and jogged as quietly as possible toward the firelight. By the time I got to the troll's campsite, I could barely make out Bilbo's frightened muttering, but couldn't quite make all the words out. I chewed my lip.

"Mutton yesterday. Mutton today. And, blimey, if it don't look like Mutton again tomorrow." One of the trolls grumbled.

"Quit yer griping!" Another yelled. "These ain't sheep. These is fresh nags."

The final troll was just putting the ponies he had just been carrying into a makeshift pen with the other two he stole. I narrowed my eyes. Bilbo really was the best for this job, but...I didn't feel like he should be the one to risk his life. I felt like, despite my fairly significant lack of stealth, I should be the one to put myself in danger, not Bilbo. Biting harder on my lip, I slunk into the shadows, just as Mr. Baggins came jogging stealthily past.

I resolved to stand watch, ready to pull Bilbo out the second things went nasty.

"Oh!" One growled. "I don't like horse. I never have. Not enough fat on them." That's because people ride them around, keeping them strong and fit.

"Well, it's better than leathery old farmer." The one stirring a pot replied. "All skin and bone he was. I'm still picking bits of him me teeth." It made my skin crawl to hear how easily these trolls talked about killing and eating as easily as if they were discussing the weather. By now, Bilbo was inching around the troll's campsite, nearing the ponies. He passed the tree that his me, but was too focused on getting to the ponies to notice me. Not that I mind. I would have blown his cover for sure. One of the trolls sneezed, and then I heard a splashing noise. Gross. What made it worse was when the trolls started talking about the effect the booger would have on their stew.

"Might improve the flavor!" One cheered. And tested the stew, praising it as he offered it to his companion, the one that had sneezed and was clinging to a handkerchief. That one also noted that he hoped the cook would gut the ponies, as he 'didn't like the stinky parts'. Bilbo barely had time to duck as the troll leaned over toward the ponies. The Hobbit was as pale as a wraith, but also looked determined at the same time. I guess that might have come from having to stick up for himself for once, during our sparing sessions. Bilbo's probably feeling more confident now that he has at least a tiny sparring match under his belt. I should push him harder, boost his confidence more, I noted as Bilbo crawled toward the one troll with a crude sword tucked securely in his belt, who was complaining that everything the cook made tasted like chicken, except the actual chicken (which allegedly tasted like fish). I tensed up as Bilbo made his first attempt. The troll reached behind himself and scratched at his rear as Bilbo ducked, looking somehow even more pale and horrified at this. I smiled. There was still some of that simple Hobbit I met in Bag-End. My sparing, although the best thing for him, was draining that out of him, hardening him, fashioning him into a warrior. I just hoped that his heart would remain as open and carefree as it was in Bag-End, no matter what. That would be worse than watching him die. Watching him harden to everyone around him would be something I couldn't bear to see in the HalfLing I treated like a little brother. The trolls then started complaining loudly of their hunger. That's when everything went wrong in the span of around two seconds.

Bilbo was rising, about to wrap his little hands around the Troll's sword...

The dumbest troll started quivering and shaking, breathing heavily...

And then he sneezed, grabbing Bilbo accidentally in his rush...

Without waiting to see the result, I tore as quietly, yet quickly as I could back the way I had come. I found Fili and Kili already on their way back to the campsite. They must have heard my approach. We tore into the center of camp, breathless.

"T-Uncle!" I cried, and he was there in seconds.

"What happened?" He demanded.

"Bilbo...trolls...ponies...caught him..." I panted. Uncle grasped my shoulders.

"Catch your breath, Aili." I took greedy gulps of air obediently.

"Bilbo's been captured by trolls while trying to rescue our ponies!" And we were off again, me and Kili in the lead, tearing ahead of the rest. By the time we got back, one of the trolls had Bilbo by his feet, holding him upside down. I git my teeth and charged, swinging my machete at the one holding Bilbo, hardly aware of it's scream as it stumbled, but remained upright, still clutching our Hobbit in it's filthy hands.

"_Drop_ _him!"_ Me and Kili roared in unison. Of course, they didn't. They just stood there, and I tried to ignore the pleading, injured look in Bilbo's eyes as he gazed at us. I swallowed, and shifted my grip, listening with rising spirits to the stomping, thundering gait of the rest of the Company on approach.

"You what?" the troll holding Bilbo demanded, raising the poor Hobbit slightly. Kili had apparently heard the Dwarves' running, as well. We both smirked, and spun our weapons. Bilbo, white as clean linen sheets, glanced nervously between us and the trolls, as if calculating how effective we could be at enforcing our demands. It was sad to look at, so I focused on the sneering trolls instead.

"We said..._drop him_." I repeated, and the troll then launched Bilbo at us, and we fell back as he crashed into us.

Fate was with us, as that's the second Thorin and the others came rushing and roaring into the fray, launching into the kind of instinctive, free-flowing, thoughtless fighting that could only come from a group as close as this Company. Me and Kili found our place in this deadly dance, but the longer it went on, the more an unsettling feeling settled over me.

That we weren't doing any real damage. That we may as well have been bees trying to bring a Man down. We may sting, but we couldn't do anything more fatal. Gritting my teeth, I tried to sink my baldes in farther, strike harder, but it did little good. I distantly heard the ponies run away, freed by Bilbo, no doubt. That was all well and good. He still couldn't fight. My thoughts were cut off, however, as a stray kick from the cooking troll sent me sprawling on the opposite side of the camp, where Thorin and the others had wandered to. As Fili helped me up, Kili called back to make sure I was alright. I gave an affirmative reply, but could do no more as a sickening and horrific sight met my eyes.

Bilbo was being held by his arms legs by two trolls, looking horrified and absolutely terrified as the trolls tightened their grips.

"Bilbo!" Me and Kili cried, meaning to rush forward and rescue him, but I felt Dwalin's arm wrap around my waist, drawing me back. I struggled to get free, but the years of mercenary forge-work had paid off for Dwalin, and he won in the end.

"Don't." I heard Thorin order, as if from far away, so loud was my heart in my ears. I growled, hands gripping my machetes in a vice-grip, itching to help the ghost-white Hobbit so frightened before me.

"Lay down your arms," The lead troll growled. "or we'll rip his off." He said, smirking and nodding toward Bilbo. The seconds ticked by slower than I felt I had experienced in my life. Finally, Thorin broke the silence, his sword clattering against the ground. I forced my fingers to release their burden, fearful of the consequences. The Company followed. Bilbo was again tossed toward us, and then a troll came forward, and promptly started stuffing us into sacks. I cringed as the dumb troll squeezed my chest too tightly, before stuffing my awkwardly into a sack, tying it off at my neck before launching me over to where the other sacked Dwarves lay helpless. I landed on Bombur, and rolled off, now sandwiched between Oin and Bombur. If I could only reach my...my...

BOFUR! My mind raced as I saw Bofur's face, among others, being lined up against the spit-like log the trolls had quickly set up. Why I felt this way...I have no idea...but I just...

I bit back a scream as the spit was hoisted onto it's base. The Dwarves secured there started struggling, but the ropes, while not pulled tight, and gravity kept them from escaping. As soon as that was done, the troll cook got more firewood and dumped it on the fire.

"Ow! That's hot, that's hot, that's hot!" Nori screamed as the spit was spun. My breath hitched as I saw Bofur's pained and frightened face spin up and around the log. The dumb troll suggested that they sit on us and turn us into jelly, which was impossible. And just illogical. Okay...I need to reach my boots. I have a knife hidden there...it's one of the few I keep on me at all times. Along with my swords. I couldn't get into a position where my hands could grab my blasted dagger...without severely awkward pain. The cooking troll then informed the dumb one that we outta be 'sauteed and grilled, with a sprinkle of sage'. I licked my lips, which had gone rather dry, now that we faced death...or maybe just Bofur's...oddly. As the spit continued to spin, I began to drown out everything, and focus on getting my dagger, and freeing myself. What happened after that...I had no idea. I just needed to free myself. Then worry about what I would do after.

The longer I struggled to grasp that blasted blade, the further the icy fingers of panic delved into my skin. Time was wasting.

"Wait! You are making a terrible mistake!" Bilbo cried, shattering my focus, so loud did he cry out. The Company (or rather, Dori) was quick to inform Bilbo that trolls were halfwits, and couldn't be reasoned with. Bofur said something so quickly, my frazzled brain couldn't comprehend properly as my mind raced, realizing what Bilbo was doing. He was offering us a chance to live, to make it at least until sunrise, then...we'll see, I suppose...it all hinges on whether or not these will actually turn to stone with the sun. I remembered legends about it, but I have never seen it in person...

Bilbo stood awkwardly, and cleared his throat, leaping to the front of the pack of Dwarves. "I meant with the seasoning." He explained, as I, too, forced my self upright, and over to Bilbo. I was gonna help him, no matter what. This was our only chance...

The cooking troll came forward, curious glare fixed. "What about the seasoning?" He asked darkly. Bilbo then smirked.

"Well, have you smelt them?" He asked, nodding toward the bagged Dwarves at large. "You're gonna need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up!" I licked my lips, forcing my automatic protests down.

"You could try combining seasonings. Such as thyme, basil, oregano-"

"Traitor!" Someone yelled. I nearly groaned. The cook narrowed his eyes.

"What would you know about cooking Dwarf?" The troll still spinning the spit growled angrily.

"There's no better person to talk to on that subject than an actual Dwarf, really." I muttered, loud enough for the trolls to hear. Outraged protests sprang up. I bit my lip subtly. If this kept up, it could blow our story, and any chance of making it til dawn would be thrown out the window. I sent Kili a look that I hoped clearly told him to play along, but he didn't see it as he struggled to get out of the sack. The cook waved the other troll's words off absentmindedly.

"Shut up!" He ordered, not taking his good eye off us. I swallowed. "Let this Dwarf and the FlorgaburburHobbit talk." I tried not to let my confusion at Bilbo's odd title show outwardly. What on earth did that troll mean by 'florgaburburHobbit'? Bilbo smiled, and I forced a grin, as well.

"Uh, t-t-the secret to cooking Dwarf is to...um..." He muttered, trying to quickly come up with a cooking technique. I tried not to look as apprehensive as the other Dwarves as I waited for Bilbo to finish his 'secret'. The cook got restless quickly.

"Yes?" He demanded, growling.

"It's uh..." Bilbo tried again. I licked my lips again.

"Tell us the secret!"

"Give him a moment. We haven't cooked Dwarf for a while!" I growled back, trying desperately to buy Bilbo time to consider how to get us out of this.

"Yes, I am telling you!" Bilbo said with another forced grin. "The secret is to..." More apprehensive staring, all eyes locked on Bilbo... "skin them first!"

"Then put them into a stew!" I added, making the false preparation time longer. The Company looked shocked. The effect was instant: incredulous roaring, threats, and name-calling.

"Tom, get me fileting knife." The cook growled, still not taking his creepy eyes off us. The troll by the fire narrowed his eyes.

"What a load of rubbish." He growled, still absentmindedly spinning the spit over the fire...I had to force my eyes away from the look of horror, hurt and betrayal on all Dwarves' faces, especially on Bofur's... "I've eaten plenty with their skins on."

"Well, you missed the 'stewing' part, didn't you?" I replied, trying to look as sarcastic as I could. This troll was getting wiser to our scheme as time went on. Not a good thing. However, for now, he narrowed his eyes, and fixed them on the fire.

"Scarf 'em, I say. Boots and all." He suggested. I felt panic's icy daggers stab through my veins, and it took every ounce of my willpower not to react outwardly. I fought even harder as two things happened that fought for a reaction.

The dumb troll reached down and plucked up Bombur, proclaiming that there isn't anything wrong with a Dwarf, 'nice and crunchy.'.

That, and I saw Gandalf, leaping across a rock at the back of the troll's camp, hardly a flash amongst the surrounding bushes, but Bilbo and I saw him. Then, just as Bombur was nearing the troll's mouth, Bilbo then said something I never expected, but had to fight a reaction to.

"Oh, n-not that one. H-he's infected!" Bilbo cried, to confused murmurs from the Company. The troll fixed a confused stare on Bilbo and I as I nodded vigorously, not trusting my mouth in my shock.

"Huh?" The troll holding Bombur asked.

"You what?" The one spinning the spit added. Bilbo gulped.

"Y-yeah. He's got worms in his..." He searched for the right word for a moment as I grimaced in fake disgust. "tubes." I nearly scoffed. How polite a term for guts. With a disgusted cry from the dumb troll, Bombur was tossed back amongst the bagged Dwarves.

"I-in fact, they all have." Bilbo squeaked. I didn't like where this was going, but knew it was our best chance. So I squeaked out a 'Yep." as Bilbo continued speaking. "They're infested with parasites. It's a terrible business. I wouldn't risk it. I really wouldn't." Bilbo warned, frowning.

"Parasites?" Oin demanded, angry. "Did he say 'parasites'?" I groaned, but it was too late. The floodgates burst, and the Company rose their voices in sharp protests. This time, me and Bilbo rolled our eyes, restraining our groans with a lot of effort. Thorin seemed to pick up on what we were doing, and kicked Kili, cutting him off mid-protest. Then, the entire Company reversed their tones, telling the trolls in no uncertain terms that they did, indeed, have parasites. I felt only slight relief at this.

"What would you have us do, then?" The troll by the fire roared, nearing me. "Let 'em all go?" It seemed like he was asking a question that wasn't really a question. Bilbo got a falsely thoughtful look about him.

"Well..."

"If you really wanna..." I added, smiling. Just then the spit-spinner came forward and poked us in the stomach with his ladle harshly. Bilbo nearly doubled completely over.

"These little ferrets is taking us for fools!" The troll cried, then circled the fire, glaring at us all the while. The spit had stopped spinning, with Bofur, Dwalin, and Dori on top and the others, unfortunately, facing the fire.

"'Ferrets'?" Bilbo squeaked.

"'Fools'?" The cooking troll added, blinking. Then suddenly came a voice that nearly had me passing out in relief. It boomed out across the camp, silencing everyone. All eyes turned to the rock, widened in relief, bewilderment or just plain confusion.

"_The dawn will take you all!_" And there was the Wizard in all his glory, standing tall and proud upon the rock.

"Who's that?" One troll asked.

"No idea." Another replied.

"Can we eat him, too?" The dense one asked. I would honestly like to see them try. With the harsh look in his eyes, he wouldn't have to come down from the rock to kill these trolls. Gandalf raised his staff in his hands, and sent it crashing into the rock, slicing it neatly in two, and stepping onto the larger portion. It shone brightly. All cringed, and bowed their heads to escape the harsh sunlight. All sense was lost in the screams and cries of the trolls and the elated cheers of the Company. By the time my eyes adjusted, Gandalf was behind me (I could hear his particularly raspy breath), muttering something that I don't think was English. Then, a thin line of heat seared up my back, and then the sack fell about my feet. I was freed. I turned and saw that the three trolls had been petrified, in various poses of fear. I smirked. Bilbo had done it. _We _had done it.

We had saved the Company, and single-handedly at that.

=#=#=#=#=

It wasn't my fault. It really wasn't.

Bofur just happened to be the first Dwarf off the spit. It's not my fault he was the first one I hugged.

However, the situation went immensely more awkward when Bofur, having not been on his feet (not to mention the spinning), just kinda collapsed, dragging me with him. I hadn't been as strong as I could have been, as the trolls tied the ropes around my hands and feet so tightly that I lost circulation. We fell about laughing, and the only good thing about this predicament was that everyone was so busy celebrating the fact that they hadn't died to be watching us. As I quickly maneuvered myself away, and stood up, helping Bofur to his feet hurriedly, I saw Bilbo standing a short ways away, covering his laughter with the back of his hand.

"Not one word." I growled in his ear as Bombur came over, wide grin on his face. The brothers hugged, and I went to find Fili and Kili. For some reason, I hadn't been as worried for the sacked Dwarves as I had been for the ones on the spit. I found Fili and Kili hugging and laughing with random Dwarves, and their faces lit up as they caught my eye. The pair closed the distance between us in a matter of seconds. Their arms wrapped around me all at once, and I felt stifled by their combined squeezing. I wheezed as they let me go, and coughed as they smacked my back, laughing.

"That was the most ridiculous thing you have ever done, Li." Kili said, lopsided grin making my giggle.

"I know. But it helped Bilbo save us, so I went with it." I replied, shrugging. Fili frowned.

"You played a fairly big part in all that, Aili." He said seriously. It was my turn to frown.

"Not as large as Bilbo. I had no idea how to get us out of that situation. If it hadn't been for Bilbo's quick thinking...and Gandalf's timely arrival...we would have died." Kili scoffed.

"Nah." He said, and pecked my cheek. We went off and joined in the celebrating. But I kept shrugging off their congratulations. I didn't feel I deserved them. Balin finally convinced me to get some of the credit, saying that it was somewhat due to my affirmations of Bilbo's words that befuddled the trolls. I found Thorin and Gandalf discussing the matter of why these Mountain Trolls would come down this far south. But then Dwalin's arms swung me up and around and around before setting me down. I was laughing as I leaded against his arms. He seemed to be frowning a little less, although I have never seen his true smile since Bag-End.

"That took guts, lass, doing what you did." I felt my smile flicker.

"It was really Bilbo. I just knew to go along with it."

"That's more than any of us could figure out. We owe it to you and the burglar."

"His name is Bilbo, you know." But Dwalin was already off, seeking out his brother. It made me feel slightly guilty that I hadn't sought out my brothers first.

Yet...for the life of me I could not figure out why I hadn't. I chalked it up to simply the fact that those hung up on the spit where in more danger than those on the ground in sacks. Satified, I walked off back to our campsite, arm around Kili's shoulders, joking and laughing about Bilbo and I's intervention.

=#=#=#=#=

Soon after we got back to our camp, we were all relaxing and I had to tell everyone many times what I was thinking, standing there with Bilbo, as he told his own side of the story.

The relaxed atmosphere shattered as Thorin came in with Gandalf, and told us to follow him in no uncertain terms. It turned out that Thorin and the Gray Wizard had found the troll's cave. We entered, coughing and gagging at the truly horrendous stench that threatened to overwhelm us, making our eyes water. Gandalf led the way down into the depths, warning us to be careful what we touched. The further we went in, the more my nose stung with the foul smell. I found many interesting things, as well as many weapons pilfered from the trolls' victims. Bofur stopped and ran his foot over a large pile of gold.

"Seems a shame just to leave it laying around." He noted slowly. "Anyone could take it." I smiled, rolled my eyes, and continued searching for something useful. I found a simple Dwarfish looking buckler, and swung it over my shoulder easily. Then watched as Bofur, Gloin and Nori grabbed a shovel and started collecting the loose gold and putting in into several large chests. Dwalin stood at the head of the trail leading back out of the cave, and glared at the gathered Dwarves.

"We're making a long-term deposit." Gloin explained as he swept dirt back over the chests. Meanwhile, Thorin and Gandalf searched the back of the cave. I walked over and found my Uncle and the Wizard picking up some old-looking, cob-web encrusted swords.

"These swords were not made by any Troll." Uncle Thorin said, handing one to Gandalf as he examined the other one. Both looked marvelously well-forged, with tooled leather sheaths, glinting silver handles, and flowing decorative lines that were easy on the eyes. The style felt familiar, and my suspicions were confirmed as Gandalf examined his, frowning in thought.

"Nor were they made by any smith among Men." He said as he drew his sword out of it's sheath, blowing off stray cob-webs and other debris from the blade, which still looked as sharp as the day it was forged. Elfish work often lasted lifetimes without getting dull, brittle and useless, I remembered. And now I knew. These swords were made by Elves.

"These were forged in Gondolin by the High Elves of the First Age." He noted. I blinked. The First Age? Man, Elves knew how to forge a sword...

Why does Thorin want to leave it here to rust?!

I thought as Uncle started putting the sword back, sour glare on his face. Gandalf glared down his nose at him.

"You could not wish for a finer blade!" He barked, and I left to go outside this foul cave before I fell down, passing out as the stench invaded my senses.

The outside air cleared my head marvelously. All too soon, though, I heard Thorin bark orders to clear out. The Company gathered back at the head of the cave. Just as we started heading out, I heard something come crashing through the trees. I glanced at Kili, and found that he had also heard the noise. Fearing an Orc pack, we headed out toward it, swords drawn and my buckler at the ready. Thorin saw us, and called out. Soon enough, the Company was there, with Gandalf crying for everyone to arm themselves. The crashing came closer and closer as the seconds passed. We tensed as the blurred figure came crashing out, slowing a little to reveal an older man wearing brown robes, and a hat as odd as Bofur's, if not odder. He reminded me a little of Gandalf, if he lived off in the wild. His rabbit-powered sledge came hurdling to a stop in front of us. I peered at this newcomer with slight concern. He had a wild, crazed look in his eyes, and bird feces trailing down his face. All in all, an...odd character, to be honest.

"Thieves! Fire! Murder!" He screeched, snarling as he came to a complete stop. We tensed, waiting to see if this stranger was dangerous. Then Gandalf let out a small chuckle. I blinked, relaxing a little in my confusion.

"Radagast! It's Radagast the Brown!" He called, nodding in greeting, but then got a confused look about him. "Well, what on earth are you doing here?" He asked, walking over to stand near the odd little man, who glanced at Gandalf as if just now noticing him.

"I was looking for you, Gandalf." He said. "Something's wrong." He said gravely, still with a wild gleam to his eyes. "Something's terribly wrong!" He then screwed up his face in confusion, inhaling as if about to speak, then closing his mouth a few times before blinking rapidly in frustration.

"Yes?" Gandalf asked, as if he feared he might know the answer.

"Oh!" He exclaimed, biting his lip. "Just give me a minute." He said, before his face went thoughtful again. I glanced at Kili, as if to say _What's this guy's deal?_ and he glanced back like _No idea_, cheerful tuck to his lips. "Oh." Radagast cried again. "I had a thought, and now I've lost it!" He cried, waving his arms in frustration. By the tone in his voice, I came to think this was a fairly frequent occurrence. "It was right there on the tip of my tongue!" He whined, frowning. Then, his tongue peeked out again, as if cradling something..."Oh. Ith not a thougth ath all!" He cried, voice distorted due to the odd placement of his tongue. "Ith a silly ole..." He continued, opening his tongue. Gandalf tentatively reached forward, and grasped the end of something that looked too much like a stick. I nearly gagged. What was he doing with a stick in his...never mind. I don't want to know. "Stick insect." Oh, my bad. Stick _insect_. So much better. Gandalf pulled it out, and plopped it onto Radagast's outstretched hands, for the little guy to be released. The Company all wandered into small clumps, whispering and peeking out at the two men with concern before going back to whispering, leaving me alone. I didn't feel the need to whisper about people behind their backs. With Bilbo, at his house, it had been a bit of a different matter, but this man did not deserve any harsh words, or mockery, as far as I could see. With nothing better to do, I leaned against a tree, feeling drained after the excitement of the day. And with no rest the night before, it made for a sour mix. I sighed, and got as comfortable as I could. But then Bilbo came out, coughing slightly. I started slightly. He stumbled back a little, startled by my sudden reaction. I smiled.

"Yes?" I asked, and Bilbo shook himself subtly.

"Oh, uh...well...it's just...Gandalf's given me a little sword, and I still don't even know how to use one." he muttered, one hand on his waist, fingering his belt, and the other rubbing the back of his head. I smiled.

"Gandalf rarely does anything without a purpose. Just try not to just fool around with it until I can show you how to use a real sword properly. Deal?"

"Oh, don't you worry about me!" Bilbo squeaked, waving his arms. "I won't even touch it unless I have to!" He cried. I frowned.

"You'll need to, Bilbo, before this quest is done, I fear. All I'm asking is that you not try to swing it around as I do until we're further along in your lessons." I said, hand on his shoulder. "If Gandalf himself gave it to you, I fear he may be preparing you for something." I said, and then made the mistake of glancing over Bilbo's shoulder. There, directly behind the burglar, a large, angry-looking Warg was sniffing around, before slipping back over the steep hill behind us. I gulped, and led Bilbo away, telling him we shouldn't be so unsociable. I found Fili and Kili, allowing Bilbo to go off to his own devices. I drew them aside.

"What is it, Li?" Fili asked, hand on my shoulder.

"Don't go looking around, but I just saw a-"

Before I could finish my sentence, I heard an all too familiar growl. The Warg was back. Bilbo was back, pale and frightened looking.

"Is that a wolf?" He asked timidly. "Are there wolves out there?" Bofur, who was next to us, grasped his mining pick-ax tighter in readiness.

"'Wolves'?" He repeated. "No, that is not a wolf." Before Bofur could explain further, more growling came from over the hill, and that same Warg leapt out and over at us.


	5. Seeking Refuge with the 'Enemy'

**4/26/15:**

**THIRD CHAPTER IS A GO! REPEAT, THIRD CHAPTER IS A GO! **

**HEH. ANYWAY...SORRY FOR THE CLIFFHANGER, FOLKS. I NEEDED TO END THAT CHAPTER _SOMEWHERE_! **

**I JUST REALIZED SOMETHING THAT I MEANT TO CHANGE BEFORE I POSTED THAT LAST CHAPTER: DWALIN DOESN'T PICK AILI UP AND SWING HER AROUND. OH, NO...HE JUST PUTS HIS HAND ON HER SHOULDER, BUT AILI CAN PICK UP ON HIS EMOTIONS...ALRIGHT? DON'T GET ANY IDEAS...AILI'S LOVELIFE IS SET...**

**ALRIGHTY! WE'LL MEET A CERTAIN SOMEONE IN THIS CHAPTER, ADDING HER TO THIS MAJESTIC COMPANY... HEH-HEH...**

**GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

**~LF221**

All screamed as the Warg leapt out, landing nearly on top of a Dwarf, though I couldn't see which one (so fast was everything happening) and Thorin tried out his new blade, slicing into the Warg's skull. It remained unmoving, and Thorin struggled to release his blade as another Warg appeared behind him.

"No!" I shouted, positioning myself in front of Bilbo, who was like a wraith on his feet. Bofur stood next to me as we prepared for the fight.

"Kili! Get your bow!" Thorin ordered, having seen the Warg. Kili did so, and the Warg collapsed within seconds. But it wasn't dead, leaping up at us as if it hadn't hardly been affected at all by the arrow to it's chest. Dwalin slammed his hefty hammer into it's skull, and it was dead and unmoving at his feet. Gandalf came forward with Radagast, and got a grave and serious look about him. It seemed like he knew why there was suddenly two Wargs attacking us out of the blue. I gulped, praying that any Orcs nearby (and I could be reasonably sure that there would be Orcs nearby) hadn't heard the racket. Uncle, finally freeing his sword, had a darkened, sour look to his face.

"Warg scouts!" He seethed, growling under his breath. "Which means an Orc pack is not far behind." I bit my lip. How had these Wargs found us? How had the Orcs controlling these beasts found us?! Bilbo blinked, and gulped. He looked slightly incredulous.

"'Orc pack'?!" He repeated. I nodded.

"There always is with Wargs." I mused. Bilbo sent me a glare. Gandalf, looking more and more gravely frightened, looked at my uncle with more seriousness than I had seen him give Thorin before.

"Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your own kin?" He demanded. Thorin, looking frightened, held the Wizard's gaze.

"No one." He replied. Gandalf didn't look satisfied with that answer.

"Who did you tell?!"

"No one, I swear!" This time, Thorin even sounded scared, but there was irritation at the Wizard in his words. He knew the stakes we faced, going up against an Orc pack. I chewed my lip as Gandalf huffed, looking around as if expecting more Wargs or Orcs to come surging out over the hill. Thorin narrowed his eyes. "What in Durin's name is going on?!" He demanded. Gandalf looked slightly hesitant to reply. And when he had, I wished he hadn't.

The next words out of the Wizard's mouth nearly stopped my heart.

"You are being hunted." Dwalin, rigidly standing nearby, eyed the woods as well, tense as a coiled spring.

"We have to get out of here." He growled. Bofur, Bifur, and Ori (having gone to get the ponies) came hurdling toward us from the path up the hill. Ori looked as pale as Bilbo.

"We can't!" He cried. How had he heard Dwalin? "We have no ponies! They bolted!" I gulped. Things were going from bad to worse as more Wargs growled in the distance. My heart was pounding as the two Wizards (at least I think so. They both have ornate staffs and...odd robes) debated about something I couldn't hear as I paced back and forth.

"They will outrun you!" Gandalf protested as I drew near, then away again.

"I'd like to see them try." Was the next thing I caught. Radagast then lept onto his rabbit-pulled sledge, and bade them run in the same form of speech I can recall Gandalf muttering when he freed me from the trolls' sack. Gandalf called us to him, and we took off in the opposite direction as the Wargs had come from. We gathered quickly behind a rock under Gandalf's guidance. I heard Wargs running, and the sound of the sledge running over the ground, coupled with Radagast's yelling, growing fainter with the passing seconds.

"Come on!" Gandalf cried, and took off again, leaving us panting, sprinting to catch up. He led us over hills, deftly avoiding the Orcs and Wargs in a pattern that seemed to me to be anything but random, ducking behind rocks and dashing over open stretches hurriedly. As we ran around a huge outcropping, we found Radagast leading the Orcs directly ahead of us, crossing the way ahead. Thank Durin the Orcs were too focused on the small brown Wizard to notice us. We had to move quickly behind a rock for cover until Radagast was past, and I caught my breath slightly. Ori continued running ahead, not seeing the Orcs ahead. Thorin pulled him back quickly. I breathed a sigh of relief, and did a quick count of the gathered Company. All were accounted for, and Gandalf motioned us forward again.

"All of you, come on. Come on, quick!" Drawing a quick breath, I ran forward, neck and neck with Fili. I heard Gandalf counting under his breath as we passed. As Thorin watched us, he turned to the Wizard.

"Where are you leading us?" Sadly, I was too far away to hear Gandalf's reply as I ran forward, stopping when Radagast once again crossed our path.

_Seriously?! Was this guy leading the Orcs in circles?! Hammer and stone, it seems so! _

I thought angrily as I fought for control of my breath again. As we crammed together in the cover of this large rock, I found Fili and Kili flanking me, breathing heavily. I pressed my back into the rock and found my way over to Thorin with my brothers. Briefly, I caught sight of Bofur, then lost him again as Kili leaned out slightly. He was safe. Good. I leaned out a little, too, and found a Warg rider, sniffing along the top of the very rock we hid around! Thorin nodded to us, and then to the Rider. I nodded in synch with Kili and drew an arrow, notching it swiftly as I drew a few final steadying breaths before sprinting out (again in time with Kili), firing swiftly, aiming for the Orcs thick neck. Instead, with my unsteady hands and rapidly beating heart, I hit his gut. I saw Kili's arrow hit the Warg's shoulder, missing it's heart by inches. Cursing, I drew steel and slashed at the Warg, trying to silence it before it could call more. Unfortunately, these creatures have very thick hides, not easily cut. As such, it took much longer than will go undetected to slay these foul creatures. Indeed, I could already hear the rest of the pack nearing us.

"Move!" Gandalf yelled. "Run!" He roared, and we did. Over the flat-lands, and I couldn't help but feel like this is where Gandalf had been leading us all along. However, even he couldn't have planned for the Orcs outmaneuvering us, cutting us off, surrounding us.

"This way! Quickly!" Gandalf ordered, and we were off again as the circle of Orcs and Wargs closed in. There was now only an fairly large outcropping of rock separating those ahead of us and nothing behind us as we ran. Having been at the back, I could see several more Orc riders joining the circle, ensnaring us.

"Uncle!" I cried. "There's more coming!" Me and Kili barked, before running forward, joining the others quickly.

"Kili! Aili! Shoot them!" Thorin roared, even as we drew our arrows and notched them as quickly as possible, firing at anything that moved. Soon, three were down by my arrows, another four done in by Kili's sharpshooting. It was not enough, though. For every Orc we killed, there seemed to be another two springing out of the ground. When will this end?

From out of nowhere, Fili came running, his sword dripping with Orcish blood. He had a few minor gashes and cuts. Where had he been?

"We're surrounded!" He screamed, readying his sword and Kili killed another Orc with an arrow. The Orcs, undeterred, continued pressing us toward the rocks, and pressed their advantage. The rocks...Maybe we could climb on top of the rocks, killing any brave Orcs that dared follow us? No...it would never work...I bit my lip, firing two more arrows as I followed the Company. This wouldn't end well...

"Where's Gandalf?!" Someone cried, but with my heart-rate being what it is, I couldn't clearly make out who.

"He's abandoned us!" There was no mistaking Dwalin's angry voice as he gripped his axes, ready to go out fighting. I found myself next to Bofur on one hand, and my brothers on the other. I grinned, despite the heavily serious and grave situation. This would not be such a bad way to go out...fighting among friends...even those you had only met recently. I mused that I would miss sparring sessions with Bilbo, those firelight conversations with Fili and Kili, cooking with Bofur and Bombur...being around friends in general. I felt bad that Bilbo had to die this way. He had yet to draw his sword, and I felt a twinge of guilt for my stern reprimand toward him. I would have to give him a crash-course in sword-fighting in minutes here. As Ori fired off a stone at a Warg's head, I was reminded of the cruel hands fate sometimes deals. Ori was a dear little thing, far too young to die. Especially not this way.

"Hold your ground!" Thorin yelled. Like there was much ground for us to hold, anyway...

And then fate threw us a lifeline in the form of Gandalf, seeming to appear out of the very rocks we would have been slaughtered on.

"This way, you fools!" He cried, and disappeared again, down into the rock. Cursing Wizards and their riddles, I slammed my sword into it's sheath, grabbed Bilbo, shoving Bofur forward, toward Gandalf, with the other.

"Fili! Kili! Come on!" I called as I tugged Bilbo along, practically shoving the distressed, pale Hobbit down into a hole (more like a...tunnel? What was this?) before leaping down myself, nearly colliding with the Half-Ling as I came to a halt. I was on my feet in an instant, eyes trained on the entrance I had just passed as Thorin belted out orders for everyone to follow Gandalf's example. Bofur was next, and I released a breath I can't remember holding. He was followed by Oin, Balin and Gloin as quick as if they had all jumped at once. As the others piled in, I started to grow worried. Fili and Kili had yet to appear. A part of me thought perhaps I could have simply not seen them, but a larger part of me knew it wasn't the case. They hadn't come down yet. My heart pounded harder the longer I went without seeing them. With those Orcs closing in...the sound of combat coming from the mouth of this tunnel-like cave...it was only a matter of time...before they were...before they...

"_Kili!_" That was Uncle. If he was calling for my wayward brother, then he must be alive...right? "_Run_!" Yep. I let my breath out in a rush. My brothers slid down the steep entrance a moment later, quickly followed by Uncle himself, closing off the number of members of our little troupe.

"What were you thinking?!" I screeched, while embracing Kili. He hugged back, scoffing.

"Aww...were you worried?" I shoved off him immediately. He was fine.

"We do have a promise to keep to our mother, after all, you dolt!" I barked, as was soon silenced as a horn unlike any I have heard rent the air and then came the sounds of battle cried, another horn blast, and terrible slaughter came down the hole. We were left in the dark until a single Orc came tumbling down toward us. There was an arrow through it's throat. I half-gasped, half-hissed, and stepped in front of Bilbo before he could see the body, oozing blood down it's chest and chin. He didn't need to see this. Not yet. Granted, the crimson liquid was hardly visible due to all his armor, but still...

Bilbo escaped me, and gagged at the sight, before Thorin came forward, tearing out the now bloodied arrow out of this Orc's chest. He beheld with an expression of disgust and hatred.

Which led me to assume it was Elvin, before Thorin spat out the word like a curse upon the broken object in his hands. He cast it aside as if it was dangerous, sour expression plain for all to see, creating an invisible border between the King and his men. Everyone gave him as large a berth as could be managed in the tight space as Dwalin (who had gone off investigating the back of the tunnel-like cave) called back, informing us that he could not see the end of the path leads, asking if we should follow it. Thorin continued to glower at Gandalf as the Wizard replied that it would be a wise idea, seconding Bofur, who was anxious to get out of this dank cave.

Hammer and stone, was it cramped in here!

Falling in behind Bofur, I walked ahead, having to turn my body sideways constantly just to fit through the cramped and tight turns. The only comfort was that Bombur was behind me. I would not have to wait for him to be shoved through the narrower spaces. Or have to shove him through myself, Mahal forbid.

That task was given to Bifur, who happened to be his cousin. I had often mused on how related this Company was. In fact, only Bofur, Bifur and Bombur were _not_ of Durin's line...not that that was a bad thing, really...I mused.

On and on the pathway led. Through many twists and turns, it seemed to stretch for miles, and mere feet, all at once. Time was lost until I finally stepped onto a properly carved staircase, blinking after the time in that blasted tunnel. My breath caught as my eyes adjusted. My jaws couldn't help but part on shock. This place...was exquisite.

Beautifully carved homes lay perched on a very large ledge surrounding an impressive and elegant waterfall, glittering in the evening sun as it descended swiftly into the nothingness below. Thorin's ax thudded against the stones in frustration, though his face remained impassive. I rolled my eyes. Thorin was stubborn in his bitterness toward any and all Elves, regardless of whom they owed their allegiance to, be it Thranduil, or any other Lord (or Lady) of the Elves there may be on Middle-Earth. Thranduil was the only one Uncle spoke of, always in hatred and disgust. As such, I had no idea what this place was, much less who ruled it. Mahal, this feud was annoying...

"The valley of Imladris." Gandalf said, as if in greeting as he came out of the tunnel. Imladris? Why am I not surprised that it's name was as beautiful and captivating as the valley itself? "In the common tongue, it's known by another name." He said, coming further down the pathway. I blinked. Why would it have any other name? Imladris was fine enough, more than enough, for this place...

Bilbo was completely captivated by the mere sight of the valley. So much so, in fact, that I was concerned he would refuse to move from this frankly quite inviting valley.

"Rivendell." Bilbo supplied. I blinked. How had Bilbo known that? Surely he never left the Shire before? Had he read about it in one of the vast number of books in his library? Regardless, I found that any name was suitable for this lovely place as I walked toward it.

"Here lays the Last Homely House East of the Sea." Gandalf said. As I walked toward Imladris, I couldn't help but want to hang back, to walk slower, to enjoy these marvelous sights. But that would put me near Thorin.

And those invisible borders were still clearly risen around my Uncle. Such hostility poured from him...it frightened me. How could be bear such intense racism and hatred toward Elves for so long?

I heard him speaking with Gandalf.

"This was your plan all along." It wasn't a question. "To seek refuge with our enemy."

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield!" Gandalf retorted, and I found Gandalf's tone was not unlike a father talking to a stubborn child. "The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself." Something about Gandalf's voice told me not to bring ill will and regrettable words into this peaceful, charming valley.

"You think the Elves will give our Quest their blessing? They will try to stop us." I have long since given up trying to reason out Uncle's hatred.

"Of course they will!" The tone held slight amusement in it, lost on Uncle, I knew. "But we have questions that need to be answered." At Uncle's resigned sigh, we continued on our way. I led the way, to be fairly quickly overtaken by Gandalf and Thorin. I could see his tense posture from where I stood. Uncle Thorin still radiated hostility. To him, this was the lair of the enemy, something to be avoided, if at all possible, not somewhere to walk right in and rest awhile. I could tell that every ounce of Thorin's body wanted to run, wanted to get away, but he squared his shoulders resolutely and kept walking. For the sake of the Quest, it seemed, Uncle Oakenshield would sojourn with any who could aid them, even if said hosts forced Thorin to at least act polite and force the venom out of his words.

=#=#=#=#=

Rivendell was as impressive up close as it was from afar. If not more so...

I thought as the Company stood, awed, in the center of the open courtyard directly after the impressive archway leading inside this welcoming, homely place. The Dwarves gathered in clumps, whispering, awkwardly waiting for someone to acknowledge our arrival.

All voices stilled as a slightly pale Elf in simple, yet lovely, fine robes came walking regally down the nearby stairs none in this gathering had dared traverse.

"Mithrandir!" He called in greeting, and Gandalf spun to greet this Elf with a smile.

"Ah. Lindir." He called, as the Elf gave a simple gesture that I knew was an Elvish form of greeting. I was close enough to Uncle to see the pinched muscles in his jaw, the tensed, coiled atmosphere he projected. He did, however, manage the barest of smirks as he squared his shoulders resolutely, nodding tersely in greeting. He then leaned back slightly to whisper to Dwalin, his closest shield-brother and friend, in a voice too soft for me to hear. Gandalf and Lindir conversed in Elfish, leaving us Dwarves in the dark as to what the two beings were talking about.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond." Gandalf said in blessed English, and the Elf remained as impassive as he had been when walking down those stairs just ahead.

"My Lord Elrond is not here." This time, I was sure I saw a _very_ subtle frown of distaste upon his face. Gandalf frowned.

"'Not here'? Where is he?" Gandalf asked, then the same horn that had sounded earlier that day, while we hid in the cave/tunnel blasted out, and several Elvin riders came hurdling out to surround us. As I was gripped and swung by some Dwarven arm (I think it was Bofur, but I can't be sure), it was not lost on me that I was now in the center of a circle of enraged, yet frightened Dwarfs. I could see fear in their eyes, hidden behind grave looks. I found Bilbo was also in the center, so I got into a position to defend him if necessary, but my hand only remained on my sword handle. I would wait for some threatening act before giving one. Thorin yelled to close ranks, just as the Elves came riding in circles around us, half going one way, half going the other, effectively cutting us off from any escape. And yet...I could see hints of amusement from the Elves as they rode in quick, successive, concentric circles. They were just messing with us, but it might be in part a response to Thorin's nearly aggressive attitude. However, the riders soon stilled, and then the one Elf who seemed to stand out to me came forward, and I could see the warm smile on his face. He wore ornate armor, and had a delicate circlet of silver on his brow.

"Gandalf!" He called with a warm smile, to Gandalf's returned grin.

"Lord Elrond!" Gandalf returned, and the pair embraced as they greeted each other in Elfish.

"Strange for Orcs to come so close to our borders." Lord Elrond then noted. Then, as the Dwarves released their tight ranks, but stayed close together, I felt a hand on my shoulder. Spinning, I saw what I thought of as a female Elvin child, and yet...she had an older, more mature look about her. I knew this was a (for lack of a better term) fully-grown woman She wore Elvin hoops through her pointed ears armor atop an Elvin tunic, with leggings that tucked into Elvin boots, with more armor encasing her thighs. Her eyes twinkled with merriment, like a bubbling brook. Her strawberry blonde hair was drawn back in a bun that seemed fairly Dwarfish to me, and she stood with definitely Dwarven airs about her. That may have something to do with all the Dwarves surrounding her, but somehow...I knew it wasn't. This girl looked Elvin, but felt Dwarfish. How that was possible...I have no idea. I mean, I have heard of Dwarf-Elf hybrids. Delfs, Dwarves call them in a derogatory tone.

"My name's Mithra EarthStrider, but don't you dare call me that. Just Mia will do." She said, beaming with an outstretched hand. I blinked, taken slightly aback. Feeling bewildered and more than a little confused, I shook her hand. She had a very strong grip

"Greetings, Mia. I am Aili, daughter of Dis." Mithra blinked.

"You mean...Dis from Erebor?" It was now my turn to blink. But before I could ask, I hear Elrond speaking up. Unfortunately, what he said was Elvish, so I was drawing a blank. Mithra, however, understood perfectly. She giggled into the back of her hand. Then, she bowed stiffly, and scurried off. Fili was next to me in an instant.

"Who was that?" Before I could reply, Gloin growled.

"What is he saying? Does he offer us insult?" He demanded. I rolled my eyes. Somehow, I doubted that. The resultant uproar was quickly stifled by Gandalf, who looked very much amused. My thoughts were flitting back to that odd little woman I met a moment ago.

Who was she?

Why was she so small?

And...How did she know my mother already?! That question plagued me most. I didn't remember her at all. Gandalf said something, but in my racing mind it could've been spoken in Elvish, and I wouldn't have known the difference. Then, the Company started moving out, guided by the Elvin Lord and the Grey Wizard. I wouldn't have noticed this at all, if it hadn't been for Bofur, nudging me. Acknowledging him, I followed numbly, still thinking about that strange girl, as I found myself facing a trench of clear, sparkling water, with fresh-looking towels arrayed on small table surrounding the trench. Automatically, I started rinsing my hands, before drying them off on a towel. By the time the rest of the Company finished washing their hands, I was no closer to getting answers, and made a mental note to ask later. I followed them out to an open and airy pavilion, and sat down upon a luxurious cushion. Someone requested my seat, so I numbly nodded and stood mutely, still mulling things over. I glanced around absentmindedly, and found a frowning Ori clutching a leaf of lettuce, an encouraging Dori who was trying to make his little brother eat something, and a giggly Mithra. Setting my jaw determinedly, I squeezed in next her. She gasped a little, and moved aside to allow me to sit.

"Greetings, _mellon_. (translation: Friend.)" She said, nodding curtly but the giggle never left her eyes. I noted that Fili sat across from us. Quirking a brow, I made another note at ask about that. I nodded in return.

"Greetings, _khazush_. (translation: Friend)" I returned, smirking. I knew perfectly well that Mithra called me something in Elfish, so I responded with Khuzdul, the ancient language of my people. Balin's teachings were not wasted on me. Mithra playfully frowned, but there was a smile beneath it.

"No fair! Just because you don't think I know a language doesn't give you the right to address me in it!" It was my turn to loosely cover a frown with a smile.

"That's precisely what you did, though." Fili nearly choked due to his struggle to keep his laughter under control.

"Good one, sis." I hear him mutter, still half-choking, half-chuckling. I giggled.

"Thanks, brother." I replied, as Mithra-no, Mia-upraised a finger, drawing breath to reply before letting it go a few times as she tried to think of an answer.

"Point...taken, Aili." She said, devilish smirk on her face. Now that we were relaxed, I could ask her my numerous pressing questions. I leaned toward, and Mia blinked at me, eyes widened in her surprise.

"I am not meaning to be so blunt, but..." I bit my lip and fumbled for the question that was least pressing or offensive. "how do you know my mother?" I asked. Mithra's smile faltered for the briefest second before she resumed it. Fili frowned.

"I...have known her for a while." I felt she was dodging, so I decided on another tactic.

"How'd you meet her?"

"Came upon her." Was the too quick reply. I frowned, but noted the distraught, almost pleading look to Mia's eyes, which were a lovely aquamarine color, so I dropped it.

"Oh. Has my brother introduced himself?" I asked, nodding toward Fili, whose cheeks, I swore, were a little red, and Mithra giggled, but shook her head.

"No. I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure." It was good to see the smile return to Mithra's face.

"This is Fili." I said, waving toward my brother. Mithra scoffed.

"Really? His name is _Fili_?" She asked. I frowned.

"Mine is _Aili_." I reminded her. Mithra waved me off.

"Oh, please. You're a girl. You can get away with your name, even completely pull it off." If Mia was going to add anything, she never got the chance as Kili came sliding over, settling comfortably next to Fili, winking at Mia as he did.

"Hey, there, sis." He chirped, grinning. "Didn't know the Elves were so short." He said in a lowered tone, nodding subtly toward my new friend. Mithra frowned.

"Nor that Dwarves were so rude." Fili choked again, trying to contain his laughter. Kili blushed.

"Sincerest apologies, milady." He said, extending his arm. "Name's Kili. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"

"Laying it on kinda thick, aren't ya?" Was Mia's sharp reply. Kili flushed and grinned, Fili and I chuckled.

"Her tongue's as sharp as her wit!" Kili exclaimed, taking a bite out of his large salad, grinning winningly, of not a little goofily.

"Sharper than your's, it seems." Kili frowned.

"I'm leaving." And with that, he was gone. I rolled my eyes.

"He's hopeless." I smirked. Mithra's grin was in danger of splitting her face entirely.

"I know." Fili slammed his fist against the table.

"Oi!' He cried, but not loud enough to draw attention to us. Fili then pointed toward Mithra. "I have a few things to say, as well. First off, I still don't know your name."

"That can be easily mended." I cut him off, smiling warmly. "Fili, this is Mithr-Mia EartStrider." I said, catching myself just in time on this interesting character's name, waving airily to her. Fili nodded, smirking. His eyes twinkled in the same manner as when we would stay up late at night, planning our next 'caper' as our mother called our imaginary adventures all over Ered Luin.

"And you say my name is odd." He muttered. Mia smiled.

"You're better than your brother, at least." She chirped, before we let the sound of eating fill in the silence for us. That, and the lovely, gentle Elvin music that floated through the air. I enjoyed it. I really did. Fili looked resigned to listen to it as he munched his way through a fairly large bowl of salad and roll of bread. Then, he leaned slightly forward again.

"The second thing I wanted to ask about was..." But before he could finish, he trailed off as the sound of Gandalf, Thorin and Elrond's arrival silenced all for a few moments. Elrond nodded toward Mithra, smiling a little before he sat down at the head table and the conversations resumed, although Fili looked as though he held more interest in listening to what was happening at the other table. As my hearing tunneled to it, I understood why. It was highly intertaining. I could just see Kili gazing at the frankly gorgeous elf maiden that played the harp, easily within his sights. He then smiled warmly, and (sealing his doom) winked at her. I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. Sometimes, one could come to the conclusion that I was the eldest among my siblings, being (upon more than one occasion) the more mature of our tight-knit little trio. Then, Dwalin, sitting across from him, gave a slight snort of amusement. Kili's eyes then flitted with dread to Dwalin's amused, yet fairly emotionless face. The older Dwarf had caught the younger's eyes, and seemed to know what he was looking at. Kili blanched, but nodded tersely, frowning in apparent distaste.

"Can't say that I fancy Elf maids myself." He said, frowning in utterly false disdain. "Too thin." Beside him, Bofur seemed to agree, smiling infectiously, and (it might have been my imagination, but...) he seemed to hold my gaze for a moment, a faraway, dreamy look about him. I looked away instantly, heat flushing to my cheeks. I brought a cup to my lips in an attempt to hide the red tint I knew was now flaring brightly in my cheeks. What did _that_ look mean? _Don't think about it. He's just a member of the Company..._ "All high cheekbones, and creamy skin." Kili continued, a merciful end to my torment. A smirk returned to my lips, and I again fixed my gaze upon my brother, who was (unfortunately, yet histerically) making a fool of himself in front of the Company. "Not enough facial hair for me." Like you have any room to speak at all on that, Kili of the scruffy mustache...then (to nail the final nail in his coffin) Kili pretended to be discrete in motioning with his head toward a harp-strumming Elf who happened to be passing by. "Although...that one there's not bad." My jaw dropped, my breath escaping in disbelievingly amused huffs, all notion of eating forgotten as I noticed one certain thing about said 'not bad' Elf. He was definitely male. How my brother managed to let the most distinguishing feature on a female slip him by...Mahal knows. He seemed to think he had evaded any and all teasing and backlash for his foolish slip-up, if his grin was anything to go by...until Dwalin put him out of his unknown misery.

"That's not an Elf maid." For the second time that night, Kili blanched, and spun his head to gaze more thoroughly at the Elf he had complimented (somewhat) and confirmed for himself what Dwalin had said. I covered my eyes, shaking with suppressed laughter. It was too much. Everyone was laughing, enjoying Kili's misfortune immensely. He looked completely mortified, and Dwalin winked at him before joining in the laughter. I couldn't resist the low-hanging fruit my poor brother bloomed for me.

"I didn't know you had gay tendencies, brother!" His face screwed up with extreme displeasure, and I felt a flicker of guilt as the laughter intensified. Fili was laughing so hard, I feared he would fall out of his chair. Mithra saw that, and helped steady him. Fili shrugged her off, and I could've sworn I saw the barest of redness to his cheeks. Or was it just me?

"Whatever was that for?"

"I'm challenging you."

"What sort of challenge?"

"Whomever can eat their salad the quickest has to..." Mithra stalled out as she groped for a suitable punishment. "Clean the dishes!" And the pair was off, chomping and munching down salad as if they hadn't eaten in many days. By the time the lettuce bits and other food-like debris stopped flying (I could see Lord Elrond grimacing toward Mithra from where I was) I could see that Fili was already relaxed, hands resting loosely over his stomach, sighing in content. Mithra was just setting her bowl down. Her jaw fell.

"What?!"

"I won."

"That's not fair!"

"Oh, yes it is!" I was laughing too hard to add comment for a few moments.

"He beat you, Mithra." Mithra was still stunned as the Dwarves chattered and laughed. I saw Thorin excuse himself, and leave the pavilion. I couldn't dwell on that, however, as Bofur stood up from the table, and stepped up onto a small circular stand for excess food. And promptly started to sing.

Oh, hammer and stone. He was singing a Dwarfish dinner ballad, much faster in tempo then the music the Elves surrounding the table had been playing. The previous calm mood shattered, as Bofur belted out line after line, leaving the Elvin players to awkwardly glance at each other, leaving their music to trail off slowly...

"_There's an...Inn, there's an Inn, there's a merry old Inn..."_

I couldn't find the heart to join in.

"_Beneath an old grey hill...and there they brewed a beer do brown, the Man in the Moon himself came down._" I bit my lip, unable to bring myself to do more than watch. I then just closed my eyes, subtly swaying to the music.

_To drink his fill _

_ohhh_

_The ostler has a tipsy cat,_

_That played a five-string fiddle._

_And up and down he saws his bow, _

_Now swinging high..._

_Now purring low..._

At some point, I think Mithra left, but now she was back, foot resting where she had sat, plucking at a silver Dwarfish ukelele and stomping her foot to the rhythm. The sudden music bade me open my eyes. To find that the Elvin maid playing the harp gazed at Mithra with a graceful sort of surprise. Bofur grinned winningly, and sang out again, undeterred by the quite sudden accompaniment. In fact, if anything, he belted out the lyrics all the louder, coaxing the Company to do so, as well. And they thanked him by throwing food...a tradition among Dwarves. Acceptable (even promoted) among our kin, but here...with these gentle and reserved people...it felt rude and unacceptable. I sank into my seat, despite Fili crying out for me to join in, as well. I didn't.

_Now Sawing in the middle..._

_Sooo_

_The cat with the fiddle played Hey-Diddle-Diddle_

_A drink that'll raise the dead._

Thorin had come back, happily swinging from his canteen, and stomping his feet in tune to the catchy song. Although he stood apart from his men...he seemed as a part of them as their clothing. It was nice to see him, singing and stomping with the best of them. I smiled, happy now that I saw something good come out of this song.

_And it squeaked and it sawed..._

_And he quickened the tune..._

_And the landlord shook the Man in the Moon..._

"_It's after three!" He said..._

I shook my head, chuckling, as the song reached it's conclusion. Mithra looked ready to add her own thanks in the form of a roll, but then she caught Elrond's darkened glare. In a flash, she was seated, fist supporting her frowning face, but I could still see the laughter in her eyes. She munched away at her roll without further comment. Before long, though, she dropped her frown, returning to the smiling girl I was already coming to enjoy the company of.

"I didn't know that Dwarfish tunes were so easy to play." I smiled.

"Well...they needed to keep it simple." I replied. Mithra looked amusedly puzzled.

"Why?"

"So that Dwarves can play it, even while drunk after a good meal!" I replied, sweeping some of the food bits onto my plate. Placing the ones on this table in a stack, I proceeded to clean this fine table while the others drifted away, a few mutters of thanks arising as they went. I was happy to hear my brothers mumble something as they passed Lord Elrond. Smirking and rolling my eyes, I helped Mithra start clearing the table. Mia cleared her throat.

"So...your brother..."

"What about him?"

"Is he...challenged?"

"Which one are we talking about?"

"Kili." A bark of laughter erupted, and I couldn't stop. After a few moments, I was able to halt it.

"Oh, goodness, no!" Mia scoffed.

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah! He's perfectly stable."

"Oh." We fell into silence as we carried large stacks of the surprisingly light plates toward the same room we had washed our hands in earlier. We rinsed the plates and cups off, and started drying them.

"Fili's older, right?"

"Yep."

"Out of you three?"

"...Yeah."

"Cool."

After dishes, we left to our own devices. Which translated into her following me to find out where the other Dwarves were. We found them on another open pavilion, this one pocketed with nooks and crannies, most of which already had been filled with the bedrolls and backpacks of my companions. Rolling my eyes, I found an empty one, a little ways away from the fire. If it's too breezy, then I'll be a little cold, but...it'll be fine. I turned to find Mithra, merely inches from my face, smiling at me.

"So...when are we leaving?" I blinked, taking a few steps back.

"Excuse me?"

"When are we leaving?"

"Uh...um...the _Company_ is leaving as soon as Thorin gives the order."

"So tomorrow morning?" This was getting annoying. Mithra's assuming that she's coming with us. And...it probably won't happen. However...it would be...interesting, to say the least...having another lady on this Quest...

"...Erm...let's talk to Thorin."

"Who's that?"

"Ye'll just havta see."

"Yer evil."

"I know."

**OKAY, OKAY, OKAY...DON'T KILL ME. I KNOW I SAID THAT THIS CHAPTER WOULD GO THROUGH RIVENDELL, BUT THEN...UGH. THAT WOULD PUT THE CHAPTER AT LIKE 30 PAGES, OR SOMETHING EQUALLY AS RIDICULOUS. **

**TIL NEXT TIME!**

**~LF221**


	6. A Pleasant Sojourn at Imladris

**HUGE THANK YOU TO ro781727 FOR SENDING ME A PM ALERTING ME TO THE FOLLOWING ERROR: ARWEN AND ARAGORN BEING IN RIVENDELL AT THE SAME TIME. THEY KINDLY POINTED OUT THE ERROR AND I HAVE FIXED IT.  
**

**THIS IS THE REST OF THE IMLADRIS VACAY. HOPE YOU LIKE!**

**GOD BLESS, AND GOOD DAY!**

**~LF221**

Turns out, Thorin had been summoned to a meeting with Gandalf and Elrond, according to Dwalin, who also noted that Balin and Bilbo had gone, as well. I was quick to note that he didn't look happy at all with these developments. I huffed, and went to find Uncle.

At least, until Bofur called me. I stopped, and turned.

"Ye may as well stay, lass."

"Why?" I replied with a nonchalant shrug.

"They probably won't be back for a while."

"Why not?" Bofur chuckled at Mia's quick, light response.

"Well..." He bit his lip, hesitant expression evident. Mithra let out a light giggle. "...Dunno."

"You can't just reel me in like that, sir!" She cried. I rolled my eyes. "I was expecting an actual reason."

"That's Bofur for ya." I reply.

"Oh. And the one over there?"

"You mean the fat one?" Mia whispered, nodding slightly toward Bombur. I chuckle.

"Yes. He's Bombur, Bofur's brother. The bald one with no sleeves is Dwalin." And from there, I proceeded to introduce the Company to Mithra. Some grinned, and others merely nodded, and still others could spare no more than a hard look.

=#=#=#=#=

The next few days were very slow. The first morning, Bilbo took the opportunity to explore Rivendell, and I would join him on occasion, before I grew somewhat bored. This place, though majestic, was much of the same thing repeating itself. I dug my pad, ink, and quill out of my pack, and sketched several different sections of Rivendell that I would always find interesting. Mithra was another subject of my drawing, it seemed. There was something relaxing and...fun about that girl. I had noticed that much of her time was spent in the company of either one of my brothers. Mia had long ago abandoned her notion that Kili was 'touched in the head' and could often be found, chatting and laughing with any number of Dwarves, mainly Ori, Balin, Nori, Dori, Kili and (surprisingly) Fili most of all. They sparred large portions of the day. I coaxed/commanded Bilbo to continue our lessons, but he made slow progress. I had yet to curb his panicking tendencies.

The second day, I heard the Dwarves talk of bathing, and soon, they were not to be found anywhere.

As I searched, I found the Company, swimming and splashing around in a large fountain.

There was not a stitch of clothing to be found on any of the Dwarves as they cavorted about in the fountain.

"Ackh!" I cried as softly as my panic and embarrassment could allow. Before I was too scarred, I spun on a heel and slunk off before anyone could have seen me, gaze fixed on the rapidly passing floors. I passed Mithra, heading toward the fountain.

"Mia...don't go that way."

"Why not?"

"Just...don't." She went anyway. And was back in a second. Her cheeks were red.

"I never want to see another naked man again."

"Agreed. I've caught Fili and Kili in a stream more times than I can count."

"Bet that's a sight."

"_What?_"

"I meant embarrassingly awkward." I raised an eyebrow.

"Uh-huh."

With a furiously blushing Mia trailing me, I returned to our sleeping pavilion. Shaking my head to clear it, I began to wander toward the gardens, which always set me at ease. Mithra went to the library. As I wandered around, I caught sight of someone, slightly taller than me, sitting at a bench and reading calmly. He was so engrossed in reading that he never seemed to notice my approach. I smiled as I walked up and sat down on the opposite side of the bench. It was a boy, hardly over ten years, by the look of it.

"It's okay." I said as the boy started and moved to leave, "You can keep reading. I'm just here to admire the plants." I assured, and the boy, hardly more than fourteen years old, sits back down for a moment before setting the book down and turned his eyes slowly upon me. He had shaggy brown hair (so brown, it almost looked black) and deep, innocent blue eyes. He wore standard Elvin clothes, but I could see that this young man was not an Elf. He was most certainly of the race of Men. He sat straighter and resumed reading.

"What's your name?" I asked, as nonchalantly as I could. He shuffled a little under my curious gaze.

"Estel." I definitely heard nerves in his speech. Perhaps I was pushing it?

"A fine name. Mine is Aili. If you don't mind my asking...what are you reading there, Estel?" He sighed heavily, and his hands flipped the book so I could read the title. It looked like Elfish, but I nodded like I knew what it meant.

"It's history, and it's incredibly boring. But Lady Ranoe says I need to know this stuff." I didn't know exactly who Lady Ranoe is, but I could sympathize with him on the point of being bored to death with history.

"Well, my tutor wasn't exactly the best at making history interesting, either. All those facts, dates, and people long dead make me sleepy, honestly. I pity you." Estel beamed.

"I like you already, Miss Aili! I'd just stop reading, and pretend I did it, but that'd be a lie, and Lady Ranoe will be cross with me."

"Oh? Well, then. I'd say she's raising you right." I replied, and Estel chuckled.

"She is not my mother, but she is my tutor, so I suppose she is raising me in a way." And then for a while, Estel read and I admired the view in silence. Then, Estel closed his book, and sighed. "Why don't we go find Lady Ranoe? I've just finished my assignment, and I need to return the book." I heaved myself up and Estel offered me his arm. I laughed, and slid my forearm into his proffered elbow as we walked toward the main house. Estel chatted away about his studies like a faucet without a handle. I smiled, and added hardly any comment, so fast was his speech. I inquired of a passing Elf where the Lady Ranoe could be found, and the Elf replied that she was in the study, awaiting my charge. Estel blushed, clearly having lost track of time. I thanked the Elf, and she went on her way. I looked down at Estel.

"Do you know where the study is, Estel? I'm afraid I'm not very familiar with this fine home."

"Of course! Right this way, Miss Aili!"

"Just Aili is fine, Estel."

"But Ranoe taught me to call any lady older than me 'Miss'."

"Oh. My mistake. In that case, I thank you for correcting me, Sir Estel." I said dramatically. He giggled, and by now we had arrived at a door that stood slightly ajar. At the noise of our approach, an especially fair Elvin maid came quickly out, surprised.

"Oh. Young Strider, how quick a reader you are!" She said. Estel flushed again, and gave a quick explanation as to my role in our sudden appearance, and Ranoe thanked me for accompanying him. She led the boy into the study, shutting the door behind her with a final bid of thanks. I smiled. Now, I was left to my own devices again. And I wanted to speak with Gandalf.

I was too polite to ask people directly about personal matters. But I wanted to know more about Estel, and Mithra for that matter. The questions surrounding her had bogged me down long enough.

=#=#=#=#=

I found Gandalf, relaxing in the heat of the afternoon on a bench that looked out into the sunset. He seemed as if he were merely laying there, eyes fixed squarely on the sunset, but soon I realized that he was snoring. I blinked.

Who sleeps with their eyes open?

Saving that thought for later, I squeezed into the small corner of the bench that Gandalf's frame left unclaimed. I felt guilty as the elderly Wizard started awake, sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

"Oh, my! Sorry!" I squeaked. Gandalf sleepily frowned down at me.

"Whatever for? You should have woken me sooner, Aili. I meant to speak with Elrond today." Then, he finally took full notice of me, and probably saw my burning questions. How I frankly have no idea, but he is a Wizard, after all. "But enough of that, little one. What is it that begs to be asked?" I found Mithra a deeper mystery than Estel, so I asked him about her. It was easier to do than I had expected.

"Well, she's a rare breed, that one. Half-Dwarf, Half-Elf. Due to that heritage, and the mutual displeasure between those races currently, Mithra never feels at home anywhere. So she chooses to merely wander around as she sees fit."

"Earning the title 'EarthStrider'?"

"Quite right."

"How does she know my mother?" Gandalf frowned, his eyes twitching.

"Mithra's mother took her and fled, fearful of her people's rejection, retreating deep into the Blue Mountains. She actually lived near where Thorin and others set up that small village."

"Where I grew up."

"Indeed. And for several years, the mother and child lived in peace and happiness. Then came the Blue Mountain Virus." I blinked. I had thought that it was a mere myth told to frighten little children into dressing properly in the winter, and to avoid drinking from streams. It's nothing more than a fable. I repeated this to the Wizard, and he frowned down at me.

"It is no mere fable, Aili. Her mother caught it, and died soon after. Mithra's elder brother, more Elf than Dwarf it seems, took charge of her, but he treated the unfortunate girl very poorly. Wracked with grief, unsure of what to do, Mithra fled in the wintertime (wagering no one would follow her through the cold), and by mere chance, stumbled upon your mother, as the last of Mithra's strength faded, stolen by the winter's chill. Dis nursed her back to health, and soon, Mithra's brother caught up to her once more, and off Mithra shot again. Purely by accident, she stumbled upon me during one of my constant roamings. She stayed with me for a good old time, and then she sought out her own path."

"Funny. I don't remember her."

"Your mother had just recently given birth to you, Aili, I believe. I don't think even Fili knows her from that time."

"Oh." I mused, then voiced my question about Estel. Gandalf smiled. "His is only a slightly less tragic story. His father was chieftain of the Dunedain until his death at the hands of Orcs. Young Estel was brought here, and is being raised without much knowledge of his father."

"How is that less tragic?"

"Well...Estel is not burdened yet by what happened to his parents. Mithra, to the contrary, is. She was at her mother's side when she passed, and her father is nowhere to be found."

"Ouch." Silence fell over us, and we watched the sun set, before returning to find supper being prepared.

=#=#=#=#=

It was a light affair of salad and sausages roasted over a fire. All in all, a cozy and inviting atmosphere. But I had much to think about now, after my conversation with Gandalf. I tried to join in the laughter as Bofur teased poor Kili (who was smoking and whittling again) about his failure last night, with that Elvin 'maid', and the poor boy was left puffing furiously and blushing a deep scarlet.

It was humorous, indeed. I then found myself joining in without forcing it, forgetting my previous heavy thoughts and dreary contemplations.

"Mithra would be a fine addition on this journey." Came a voice behind me. It was Gandalf, and I thought he was talking to me, but turning to address him I found that he was speaking to Thorin. Smirking, I turned back toward the fire, puffing at my pipe. It would not take long now for Thorin to cave to the Wizard's wisdom.

=#=#=#=#=

Someone shook me awake at around dawn. I flipped over to reveal Bofur's groggy, sleepy face.

"Time to start cookin', lass." I yawned into the back of my hand as I sat up and stretched my arms. I twisted around, and popped my back, as well, before slipping my boots and vest on and helping Bofur start the fire. I can't stop yawning, sitting here at the edge of the frankly quite warming fire. I feel someone hug me with more than a little enthusiasm to it from behind.

"Morning, Miss Aili!" Chirps a young, male voice, chuckling slightly. I smile through a yawn, and turn to face an exuberant Estel.

"Good morning to you, as well, young one." I say, then notice Ranoe behind him. She's smiling, standing only a few feet away. I stand, excuse myself, and walk over.

"Good to see you once more, Aili." Ranoe greets. I smile.

"Glad to see Estel hasn't lost his youth-full cheer."

"Indeed. I only recently returned from traveling, and discovered how much I missed him."

"I would, too, if I were to know him as well as you do. The lad gives off energy and cheer. You can't help but smile. He even refuses to call me anything but 'Miss Aili' saying you taught him to address any lady older than him as such." Ranoe smiled.

"It's only proper etiquette."

"I wish my companions remembered etiquette. They can't seem to call me anything but 'lass' no matter how many times I remind them of my name." I laughed, and Ranoe giggled. It reminds me of a spring running over rocks.

"Yes, but their hearts are in the right place." Just as I open my mouth to reply, I hear Bofur quietly telling Estel to leave the fire alone. I chuckle, and turn around to find Bofur pulling Estel away. Literally. Rolling my eyes, I come over.

"Estel...don't play with the fire. It's gonna hurt you." Estel stuck out his lower lip.

"I know that!"

"Than why are trying to touch it?"

"I wasn't!"

"Yes, you were. Now...you wanna help Mister Bofur with the sausages?" Bofur scoffs.

"'Mister' Bofur?" He whispers, reaching for the pack of sausage links as he does. I smile.

"Estel only calls me 'Miss Aili'. Figured the same rule applied for males to him."

"Makes sense." He mutters, going back to frying meat just as Estel started asking about how to cook meat, happy grin on his face. I laugh at how easily Bofur deals with the child's eagerness. Ranoe laughs again, and the stream of her giggles turns into a river.

"He loves being around anyone who'll stand him."

"I can see that." Ranoe calls to Estel in Elfish, and they apologize for the sudden departure, but have studies to get to. Estel's fist holds to a single sausage, and Ranoe pretends not to notice.

"Nice lad, that."

"Indeed." I reply, and help Bofur cook up more sausages and then mix up salad. These meals are getting old. It's always the same. Suddenly, Thorin walks into the pavilion, and he doesn't look happy. An even grumpier Gandalf follows him, and I automatically take a few steps backwards. I hate Thorin like this. I'm just glad Estel isn't here. He wouldn't like Dwarves after meeting an angry Thorin, and Estel seems like a lovely friend to have.

"Your stubbornness will be your downfall, Thorin Oakenshield!" Gandalf yelled. Thorin growled. He glanced around, and seemed to not find what he was looked for (and yet seemed less angry at that) before turning to Gandalf.

"I will not have that _hybrid_ on our Quest! It's hard enough as is!"

"She can be a guide!"

"We don't need one."

"You may."

"We have a map. And we have you. That is enough." Gandalf frowned, but made no further comment. Thorin crisply ordered breakfast to be prepared and Bofur and I immediately started cooking. Gandalf collapsed beside the fire, puffing at his pipe furiously. I sat beside him.

"Thorin won't let Mithra join?"

"No."

"Well...that's not such a surprise, considering...Thorin doesn't like Elves."

"Indeed?...That's a shame."

"We leave tomorrow, so be prepared." Came Thorin's gruff order, and I continued stirring the soup. Bofur added chopped vegetables. This would feel like old times, at the Trollshaws...if not for a brooding Uncle in the background...oh, wait. He was brooding before the trolls came into the picture.

Breakfast was slightly awkward, but nonetheless enjoyable. Especially since Bofur seemed to think he was attached to me with a thread, staying close. He would always smile at me, and I could always find it in me to smile back.

=#=#=#=#=

"You got it, Bilbo!" I praised, as Bilbo managed to properly block an attack to his legs, which had been the attack that Bilbo couldn't seem to block in his panicky state.

"After several bruises to the thighs, yes."

"You're getting better. Admit it."

"No, I'm really not."

"If you keep this up, you'll never get better. Just keep an optimistic eye open. Two is even better."

Bilbo, who had been reluctantly getting back into a defensive stance, dropped it. "Oh, please. "

"That's a direct quote from Balin. Don't mock."

"He said that?"

"Yep. Let's keep going." Bilbo huffed, and got into a battle-position, ready for anything. "Feet shoulder-width apart. It keeps you more stable." Bilbo let his sword hang again.

"This is pointless!" He cried, "You and I both know I'll never be a warrior like you or Fili, or Kili..."

"Bilbo."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I. I can personally tell you of the countless times this very scene was repeated in my training with Balin and Thorin."

"They were the ones that trained you?"

"Mum thought Balin would be better than Thorin. Now...stance."

"Ugh!"

We sparred for another fifteen minutes or so before lunch. Afterwards, I went to seek out somewhere I could bathe in peace. Within ten minutes, I was in our sleeping pavilion, ringing out my hair. The sun was already setting, and the others drifted in, and started fending for themselves in terms of supper, starting a fire in the middle, as always.

Later, Bofur and Bifur were the only ones cooking by the fire, and the rest were preparing to get some rest. Mithra was there, chatting with Fili about how many battles she'd won in their sparring matches that day. Soon, they were arguing and snapping at each other. I was amused to discover that they had spent nearly this entire day sparring, starting up quite the betting ring after the Dwarves' bath.

"12!"

"Nuh-Uh!"

"Tis true!"

"No it isn't! I won 14 to your 12!"

"No, you didn't!" I rolled my eyes, and made a snide comment absentmindedly to Kili about the sudden amount of time those two spent together. We puffed at our pipes in a temporary peaceful and homely atmosphere. But it was only a matter of time before Thorin showed up with his invisible barriers and reigned hostility. His arrival always heralded the death of any fun and laughter. I feel certain Uncle doesn't mean to have that effect...but he does. It just happens...

"Bombur..." Bofur called, chucking a nicely roasted sausage to his brother...who caught it easily. Then, the small bench Bombur sat on collapsed with his weight. We all fell about laughing, and I could just see Thorin, gazing in at us from the edge of the pavilion. He didn't seem keen on joining us, preferring to watch from over a distance. Bilbo was over there, as well, looking forlorn...oddly. Like he didn't think he could fit in with us. That was just sad, so I slid out from under Bofur (who had collapsed against me, falling about laughing at the same time) and jogged over, passing Uncle with a curt nod. He responded in kind.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, I heard Gandalf's voice, flitting through the open pavilions.

"Of course I was going to tell you. I was waiting for this very chance. And, really, I think you can trust that I know what I'm doing."

"Do you?" Came Elrond's reply. "That dragon has slept for 60 years. What will happen if your plan should fail? If you wake that beast?"

"What if we succeed?" Gandalf snapped. "If the Dwarves take back the mountain...our defenses in the East will be strengthened." So this is the real reason behind this Quest? Behind Gandalf's urgent gathering of this Company? For strengthening defenses? Securing the grip good held in that sector of the world? Wow.

"It is a dangerous move, Gandalf." Elrond warned.

"It is also dangerous to do nothing!" Gandalf retorted as they walked. Elrond frowned. "Oh, come, the throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright! What is it you fear?" Elrond stopped walking.

"Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs deep in that family." I gasped, and barely refrained from looking at Thorin in concern. He simply stood there, looking like _I told you so, Gandalf_, as his eyes narrowed ever so slightly. It only grew worse as Elrond continued. "His grandfather lost his mind. His father succumbed to the same sickness." Uncle Thorin's jaw worked itself subtly. "Can you swear that Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?" He turned to the side, and I could see a well-hidden sadness and terror behind his steely blue eyes. I once heard him tell Mum that the Gold Sickness was his greatest fear, after losing his father and grand-father to it. He also told Mum that he had nightmares of what would happen, should he fall. It was never a pretty picture. The terror in my uncle's eyes told me that these nightmares hadn't stopped. I sighed, turned, and walked back to the fire then, unable to stomach more of Elrond's cruel words, though he didn't know we had heard them. And soon, in the company of Bofur and the Company, my worries and previous riled emotions melted away.

=#=#=#=#=

Thorin himself was the one that woke me at daybreak the next morning. He softly ordered for me to make a breakfast for the road. We wouldn't remain in this valley any longer. I could hear venom in his words, and didn't hesitate to pull my boots and vest on, yawning. Anything to get Uncle back to normal as quickly as possible.

This place brought out the worst in my uncle. I was eager to see his old self return.

"Good morning, lass." Bofur greeted. Thorin made no comment on his awakening, so I assumed Thorin had gotten him up, as well.

"Morning." I replied, placing stones around the hot fire to warm them up so I could melt a little cheese on the tops. It would be better than nothing. As if reading my intentions, Bofur got the roasting stick he had used last night, and cooked the remaining sausages. As we worked in silence only broken by yawning and Thorin gathering things up. We sliced the sausages thinly and placed them below the cheese, so that there would be something more hearty than cheese on this bread. Mithra was suddenly sitting next to me, and I jumped slightly.

"Gah! You startled me."

"Too easy, might I add." She replied with a smirk as she reached for a slice of bread. I smacked it away.

"Not yet. These are for on the road."

"Spoiled sport."

"Sticking out your tongue does nothing but annoy me, Mia."

"I know."

"Oh, good." I snapped, rolling my eyes. I found that my brothers and Balin were also awake, roaming about, helping Uncle prepare for our departure. All too soon, everything was ready. I felt someone coming up behind me and I turned to face them. It was young Estel. I frowned. We were adjusting our packs across our backs, nearly ready to leave. But the teenager was sad. And I was susceptible to sad people.

"Are you leaving?" He asked, frowning up at me. I sighed.

"Yes, Estel. I'm afraid I must. But you can't tell anyone that we've left, alright?"

"Why not?"

"Because Elrond would see us abandon our quest, even keeping us here to stay our journey."

"Why?"

"Because he feels it is folly." Estel's frown deepened.

"Then why go against him?"

"Because we need our home back. That's where we're going. Our home. All that's left in it is a bad man who has taken it. We need to take it back." I didn't feel up to explaining about the dragon. "But you can't tell anyone, alright? Promise?"

"Pinky promise." He said, extending his pinky. I laughed. I hadn't entered into a pinky promise in many, many years...

"Farewell, young one. I hope we meet again."

"Me, too, Miss Aili." I chuckled, and embraced my friend, before Thorin growled for me. I reluctantly left to join the company as Estel went back into the Last Homely House East of the Sea.

As the sun peaked over the hills all around Rivendell, we were walking once more across the entrance-way, and didn't stop all along the way. Well, all except Bilbo. He looks incredibly hesitant to leave. And I don't blame him. Rivendell has so many simple pleasures that would easily entrance Bilbo. I am glad he chose to stay with us, however. He would regret giving this quest up, despite his misgivings about it.

"I suggest you keep up, Master Baggins." Thorin calls.

"Come along, Bilbo. One foot in front of the other." I called, in a more cheery air. Bilbo huffed, reluctant to leave. "Next stop, Erebor."

**HA!...NOT QUITE, AILI...NOT QUITE...**

**ANYWAY...HOPE Y'ALL LIKE THIS CHAPTER. SORRY IT WAS SO LONG. I FELT LIKE I SHOULD PULL THROUGH UNTIL THE END OF THE RIVENDELL VACATION. ANYWAY...NEXT CHAPTER BRINGS THE COMPANY TOWARD THE BLUE MOUNTAINS, AND...ALL THAT THAT IMPLIES...MWAHAHA! I'M EVIL! AND YES, MITHRA WILL BE JOINING THE QUEST. DESPITE THORIN'S PROTESTS. **


	7. The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

**HERE IS THE NEXT CHAPTER. THIS MAY JUST GET TO THE COMPANY'S ENTRANCE TO THE CAVE. I'M NOT SURE YET. LET'S GET GOING, SHALL WE? SORRY IF ANYONE SEEMS OOC. IT'S JUST HOW I THINK THEY WOULD REACT TO THINGS...**

**GOD BLESS, AND GOOD DAY!**

**~LF221**

Why am I always 'invited' to these meetings? Why? I don't have any idea what these guys are talking about! This is stupid! I should walking beside Fili. Only to see who gets tired first, of course. Can't have that blonde idiot besting me, now can I? Even if he's rather attractive, especially when angry...maybe that's why I keep challenging him. Dunno.

"Tell me, Gandalf..." Sara-Saru-whatever said, interrupting my odd thoughts (regrettably) "did you think these plans and schemes of yours would go unnoticed?"

"Unnoticed?" Gandalf sounded surprised, as if shocked that _that_ was the problem. "No. I am simply doing what I feel to be right." Aren't we all?

"The dragon has long been on your mind." Gladriel noted, and started to pace around the pavilion.

"No offense, milady, but...isn't Smaug now on everyone's mind?" It was an honest observation. Gladriel smiled, and nodded mutely.

"That is true, on both accounts." Gandalf mused, voicing his thoughts aloud, nodding to both of us. "Smaug owes allegiance to no one. But if he should side with the enemy..." Mr. Wet Blanket went on, darkening the mood. "a dragon can be used to terrible effect." I frowned.

"What effect?" Gandalf refused to answer. Maybe that was because Holier-Than-Thou White-Pants spoke before Gandalf could reply. How rude!

"What enemy?" Gandalf looked directly at Whats-his-name like the elder Wizard should know exactly what he was talking about. White-Pants frowned. "Gandalf, the enemy is defeated. Sauron is vanquished." Gandalf's eyes instantly flitted to me. I hate that. He always feels it necessary to 'protect my innocence from certain knowledge'. Urgh! I am 115 now, thank you very much! I think I can handle knowing Sauron is vanquished! He was that evil guy a _really_ long time ago, right? I frowned, causing Gandalf to huff lightly in amusement. Only to grow less happy when Scary-man (I swear that's what it sounds like!) spoke up again. "He can never again regain his full strength." Gandalf's eyes narrowed.

"Does it not worry you that the last of the Dwarf rings should simply vanish, along with it's bearer?" I gasped. Thrain, right? Or was that Thror? I get them so confused. Fili told me all about this Quest, and why everyone on the Company was eager to get to the mountain. Wait...oh, geez...Thorin, leader of the company...is...oh, dear! I lost interest in the conversation, mulling this new realization over in my mind.

Thorin was the grandson of Thrain (oh, dear! I think I have them muddled again!)! Oh, crap! And Fili (and Kili) are his sister-son(s)! Oh, Valinor preserve me!

I was literally dining with royals for a good five days! Whoa...talk about wasted opportunities. That blonde-haired knuckle-head is royalty! I should have gotten to know him better, danggit! Instead, I sparred with him! Argued with him!

Crud!

Why are these guys constantly talking about rings? I thought women were more inclined to do that than men are, but I guess I can't speak much. I only got these piercings because the Lady Arwen insisted. Saurcran kept talking about One Ring like the fate of the world depended on it, interrupting my thoughts again. What could a ring do? So unbelievably bored, I started to walk around with the Lady Gladriel (*cough* lapping her *cough*), but that did nothing to ease my boredom. I yearned for the Company of Dwarves.

..::_Your mind is elsewhere, young one.::.._I jumped at the sudden voice in my head. I had forgotten that Gladriel had telepathic powers.

..::Yes,milady.::..

_..::Would you go to them?::.._

..::...Yes, milady.::..

Gandalf caught my eye, and briefly nodded. Taking that as a queue to exit, I tore down the stairs into my room, and swiftly gathered my things into my pack.

"Are you leaving, too?" Estel. I had forgotten about him. He made visiting here a bit easier. I turned to him, shouldering my pack.

"Yes. Wait...what do you mean, 'am I leaving, too'?"

But Estel was already down the hallway. Jutting out my lip, I adjusted my pack, set my jaw, and slipped out toward a secret trail out onto the plains from Rivendell.

This wouldn't be easy. I knew Thorin, for one, didn't want me on the Quest. But it would be worth it. I hope.

=#=#=#=#=

I love mountains. Though these weren't the mountains I call home, they certainly were beautiful, even if they remain far away yet. Thorin pressed us all day with hardly any rest, anxious to make up for our lost time. I was grateful when daylight faded, and Thorin finally called a rest.

My feet were _killing _me!

As was quickly becoming the norm, Bofur and I were on cooking duty. Bombur had long since stopped trying to cook with us, always muttering about 'not wanting our ruin our chemistry'. As if there were any. Right?

After dinner (a hearty stew for the first time in what felt like ages) we settled down, too tired from our hard trek all day to do anything else. I leaned against a fallen log, yawned, and shimmied into my bedroll, intent on sleep.

"I love the mountains..." I muttered sleepily to myself as I drifted off. It was something my brothers always complained about, that muttering habit of mine right before I fall asleep. I didn't really care.

"Oh, aye! They make ya feel warm and cozy, don't they?" My eyes snapped open.

=#=#=#=#=

Even for _Dwarves_, these guys are moving fast! Thorin must be in some huge hurry! Or should I call him Mr. Oakenshield? Master Oakenshield? Meh. Either way, the Company has covered a lot of ground.

I bet Fili was the one who suggested a halt, though. I'll just bet...heh-heh. That knuckle-head.

Anywho...okay...I am now _really_ close to their campsite. Already? Hah! That's what happens to those foolish enough to challenge an Elf to a race. Ha-ha-ha!

Oh, look! There's Aili, right there, leaning against a log! How quaint! Although...she looks too peaceful. Good thing I know how to fix that...

"I love the mountains..." I heard the woman mutter tiredly, her eyes flickering closed in slumber. I peeked out from behind the log she was resting against. And nearly snickered. This was too perfect...

"Oh, aye! They make ya feel warm and cozy, don't they?" I felt rather than saw Aili tense up as she shot a subconscious fist at my face. I caught it reflexively and gripped her other wrist, crossing them over Aili's chest. If it was at all possible for Aili's eyes to get any wider, they did at that moment.

"Mia?!"

"The one and only." Aili then choked and gagged under my grip. Oh, right. Oops. I released her immediately, then sat on the log, waiting for Aili to recover. She coughed, clutching her throat for a few moments before sitting against the log.

"Yer...jes...lucky that...no one's awake right now, you moron!" She cried, still holding her throat, swatting at my ribs with her free hand. In return, I smirked, and jabbed my fingers once into her gut, causing her to stumble back with a soft groan, sitting harshly once more on her bedroll. Aili rolled her eyes.

"Let's get some rest, you little troublemaker."

"I am not a troublemaker!"

"Yes...you are."

"No, I'm not!"

"Good night, Mithra."

"It's Mia!"

"Whatever."

=#=#=#=#=

Nothing prepared me for the scream that rent the clear morning air.

I lept up, sword in hand, only to find Fili and Mia rolling on the floor, wrestling, both of them with wild, slightly frightening looks about them.

I worry sometimes. Those two will be the death of one another.

Thorin was among them in an instant, drawing them apart and tossing them away from one another. Fili stood, brushing himself off with a slightly guilty look about him. Mithra was smirking, like that was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Thorin's eyes widened as he beheld the scruffy hybrid, Orcrist (Gandalf had told me all about the swords while at Rivendell) pointed dangerously close to Mia's throat. Then, those surprised steely blue eyes narrowed in anger. His sword, slamming into his sheath, did a fine job of conveying the King's hot fury and anger.

"You." Mia gazed at my uncle without any fear, daring to even smirk, reluctantly tearing her eyes from the Crown Prince's face, snickering under her breath.

Oh, boy. Obviously, the poor girl hasn't made the misfortune of being on the receiving end of one of Thorin's tirades. I had, mainly because of my brothers dragging me (not unwillingly, I must admit) into all kinds of trouble.

Let's just say...I do not enjoy it. I felt nothing but pity for the poor girl...I swallowed hard, just as Thorin opened his mouth. I almost flinched, half-expecting fire to come spewing out, engulfing Mithra where she stood.

"What are you doing here?"

"Pardon me?"

"Has Gandalf not informed you of my refusal to allow you to join this Company?!" How rude!

Mia frowned, glaring at the smirking Wizard. He gets too much enjoyment out of these things...honestly. "No...he did not."

"Because I disagree with Master Oakenshield!" The wizard barked as he came forward, face now set firmly, glaring at my uncle. Who glared right back, eyes as cold as ice and sharp as daggers.

"I have already _told_ you-"

"And I refused your petty, _segregated_ counsel! As you can see, Mithra has formed a close friendship" He said this with a tinkle in his eye, fixing his gaze on Fili, "with your Company. Can you really sever those ties? And what's more..." Gandalf continued, not waiting for Thorin's rebuttal, "Who knows what lays hidden in the Wild now? If Orcs are so bold as to attack us _on the road_, then what about hidden in the forest? Or even across the flat-lands? Are you prepared to possibly endanger Mithra?" Thorin, still glaring at the Grey Wizard, addressed Mithra.

"Are you prepared for whatever this Quest may bring?"

"Well...I'm prepared for travel, if that's what you mean, sir." She catches on quick, sobering up quickly.

"It's settled, then." Gandalf said, smirking. "Mithra stays." Thorin muttered such curses under his breath that Dis would have dragged Uncle by his ear to have his mouth washed out. Nonetheless, he made no further attempt to resist Mithra's entrance. Speaking of that hybrid, she came over to me, a grave look about her. That meant either she was scared witless by Thorin's venomous words, or she was finally realizing the severity of her situation with Thorin. I mean, they weren't on the _worst _possible terms, but let's just keep it at the fact that there was _vast_ room for improvement. In fact, this reminds me of Dis and Thorin's relationship before the Quest. Constantly bickering, the pair of them...I wonder what Ma would say if she were here now...

"Thorin's your uncle, right?" Right. Back to reality.

"Yeah?" I replied, perplexed. Mithra blanched.

"Then my tackling Fili..."

"Not your smartest move."

"Right. Oops."

"MOVE OUT!" Thorin roared. Mia jumped, and scrambled for her pack, eager to set about bettering her stance with Uncle...yeah...Good luck with that, Mithra.

=#=#=#=#=

I _hate_ rain! Positively, utterly, and with _every_ fiber of my being, _detest_ rain, with it's heavy, oppressive wetness. I only had my thick cloak and vest to protect my skin from the harsh elements. But even those were getting _drenched._

I should have loved the fact that all around me, as far as I could see, were mountains. But...due to the rain, I found my mood souring quickly. Bilbo looked absolutely miserable, blinking away the rainwater from his eyes with a resigned expression. I felt sympathy for him...I really did. He was utterly out of his element out here in the rainy mountains, more used to the gentler rainfalls in the Shire no doubt. He was unused to the harsher downpours the Wild has to offer. Then, the poor Hobbit slipped, and was nearly sent careening down the gulf of nothingness below the ledge. Bofur and Dwalin pulled the Half-Ling back onto the path. He gazed around in breathless terror, horror at nearly avoiding death stamped plainly over his face. His knuckles were white against the walking stick he foolishly hadn't tucked into his pack yet.

But I had to focus on my footing rather than advising Bilbo as I inched slowly along the ledge that led around the mountain. I could guess that it was getting close to the close of the day, but with these blasted clouds, it was impossible to tell accurately. Cursing, my foot slipped, and I caught myself, regaining my footing swiftly, thanks to a steadying hand on my upper arm, squeezing tight enough to help, but loose enough that it wasn't painful. I glanced back to find Bofur's worried and scared face. I flashed him as genuine a smile as I could conjure up, and I could see the worry fade away as the dwarf flashed a grin back at me.

I like him better when he's smiling, really...

He looks so much kinder, and younger, too...

=#=#=#=#=

Even for an EarthStrider, today has been _exhausting_!

It didn't help our mountain crossing at all that it was _pouring _down rain. Has been all day. Ugh.

The only good news is that I am beating Fili in our 'how many times we trip' contest. It was an alternative to my proposed 'how fast can we get through this mountain' challenge. Thorin had shot that one down, and I knew better now than to argue with him.

I don't understand that King-in-Exile. Really, I don't. Happy and content one minute ( I had seen him, enjoying the sunrise before I stupidly tackled Fili. I didn't know Princes squealed. Or was that me?) and brooding, angry and surly the next. But I guess hardly anybody wears a smile when hiking a mountain during a thunderstorm.

I wiped rainwater and dripping hair from my eyes and set my jaw, setting one foot ahead of the other.

Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat.

Thank goodness that I do believe today's drawing close to ending.

I'm starting to feel the endless pounding of my feet in my knees. I think I'm getting blisters on my ankles, and this breastplate is _very_ constricting and cold!

Okay! Done complaining.

Eep...DRAT, I just slipped. Fifth time. Blast it all! Adjusting my stance, I pressed onward. Fili smiled. We were nearly tied now. I bit my lip, resolved to beat that stubborn, smug, adorable (_what?!_) Dwarf Prince. Thankfully, he added one more trip to his tally, but I was there to help steady him. Merely to continue the challenge, mind you. Nothing more...

=#=#=#=#=

A simple hike has never seemed so difficult, and as a wandering Dwarf of Erebor (though I have never actually set foot inside the mountain. I think I was born after Smuag's attack...) I felt this hike should have been easier. But then, no hike is easy or simple when you have to walk along a barely foot-wide ledge in the pouring rain. So I guess that excuses the tiredness I feel right now. If we can't get to shelter soon...I feel I might wither and die. My feet would go first. Then my arms. Oi! BLASTTIT all, my foot slipped again.

"Careful, Lass!" Bofur cried, and in my sudden anger at being treated delicately by the kindly (and handsome) Dwarf, I shoved myself too far forward, and had to discretely struggle to get my balance back. Bofur saw, however, and was there in a flash, hand gripping my upper arm. I heaved a grateful sigh, allowing Bofur to ease me further toward the rock wall behind me. "You alright?" No, I wasn't. Not even close. I could have sworn Thorin was shouting something, but I couldn't hear it over the rain.

"Not really! This is-"

"Look out!" Dwalin roared, cutting me off, gazing ahead.

Following his gaze, I found that I was nearly crushed beneath a boulder, flying toward my skull from above. If it was not for Bofur's slamming me against the wall, pressing flat against it himself, I would have surely died. Leaning out only so slightly, I gripped my buckler in my arms, feeling slightly awkward as I pulled Bofur to me and held my arm above my head. Setting my teeth, I groaned and bit back barks of pain as the rocks jostled my entire arm, sending shooting pain from my fingertips up to my collarbone. Bofur gripped the sides of the buckler, trying to take some of the burden off my arm as the rocks continued to barrel down at us. I briefly saw Fili, trying to shield Mithra, before a larger rock than normal came crashing onto my buckler, sending my arm nearly crashing into my temple, blocking the pair from view. As soon as the volley stopped, I slipped the shield more comfortably on my arm, and we continued walking.

"This is no thunderstorm!" Cried Balin in fear, gazing at something around the small bend he stood at the precipice of. "It's a thunder-battle!" What? Racing as carefully as I could forward, I found a large being, made entirely of stone, hurling another gigantic boulder toward the mountainside directly above us. My jaw parted in shock, letting in rainwater I instantly spat out. It can't be...hammer and stone...those are...

Bofur came up behind me, gazing in awe and fear at the sight before us. "Well, bless me!" He cried, "The legends are true! Giants!" He exclaimed, for those behind us. "Stone-Giants!" As we watched in trepidation, the next boulder hurled crashed into a giant that we had passed not five minutes ago. Mercy me...if we hadn't been keeping up that brisk pace...Mahal knows what could've happened...

"Take cover, you fool!" Roared Thorin at Bofur, who (I just now noticed) was so engrossed in watching legends play out in front of him that he could neither hear nor see the boulders crashing down on us from above. Thankfully, this time we were under a slight ledge big enough to throw the incoming boulders further out, rather than straight down at us as me and Dwalin pulled Bofur back. The path kept chipping away under our feet the the rocks that made it past the ledge came crashing into it, narrowing our path considerably. Then, everything went downhill as just ahead, cracks in the stone wall behind appeared, trailing down between Fili and Kili, separating them, as something happened that no one could have foreseen.

We had been walking along a Giant's knees. And the Giant was standing up!

"What's happening?" Kili cried, sounding fearful as he fought for balance. The 'trail' was lurching this way and that. Through my sudden dizziness, I felt Bofur's arm over my chest, steadying me. The Giant we were on stood fully and I realized that I would lose Kili to yet another Giant if I didn't do something. I lurched forward to grab my brother (who looked ever so frightened) and perhaps I would have made it except for Bofur's arms wrapping around my waist, gripping tightly as I struggled. Mithra was on the opposite knee (with Kili!), Fili desperately trying to reach our brother and friend.

"Grab my hand!" He cried, but it was too late. The leg was torn away, and I could only watch in abject terror and horror as my brother, as well as half the Company, tore out of my sight. I was thrown to the ground (Bofur pressing me further into the floor) as the Giant's knee came soaring around, nearly crashing into the Mountainside, and we were presented with a glimpse of the Company. I saw that they had somehow gotten off their Giant, but we were not so lucky, as it turns ours just lost it's head! The body was left careening toward the gulf below, taking us with it. But before it fell, the knee buckled, and came toward the mountainside. I felt someone shove me. Quite hard, too, and I landed harshly upon my buckler, which was still (quite stupidly) on my arm. Pain shot up my shoulder, but it drowned out as Ori came upon me, and Bofur nearly collided with me. All sound was lost to the falling rocks and body of the Giant that had nearly taken us with it. I lay there panting, too tired to spit out the rainwater as I panted heavily, reveling in the fact that I was alive, and so was my brother, and Bofur. As well as the others that had been on our knee. I sat up, heaving Ori off, to find a smirking Uncle, whose hand clamped my shoulder.

"Where's Bilbo?" Bofur suddenly cried. "Where's the Hobbit?" Icy fear stole what warmth I had then, as I found Poor Bilbo clinging to the edge of the ledge we were on. His eyes were filled with fear, his white lips pressed into a thin line. I reached down, and caught him as he slipped with the buckler arm. Bad idea. As soon as Bilbo's weight caught, I screamed.

My arm _hurt_! Bofur tried to get a grip on the Half-Ling as well, terror written on his face, and moved to grab me, haul me back, but found he couldn't. I was losing my grip quickly, soon to join Bilbo over the edge, despite Bofur's efforts. Uncle came swinging down onto a foothold barely big enough for him. _No, Uncle! _He gripped Bilbo's pack, and sent him upwards. At the sudden movement, I was sent hurtling into Bofur's steadily heaving chest. I felt his arms close around me in relief, and sagged into the embrace. My arm throbbed slightly, but I could still move it. That meant it was an extremely heavy bruise. I could still function the arm properly, thank Valar. Thorin nearly slipped, causing my heart to lose a beat, but then Dwalin's hand caught Uncle and pulled him up. Once more, I nearly sobbed in relief, and Bofur was in the same predicament. Looking around, I found that Fili and Mia were embracing. I smiled. Then they started bickering about how many points this little venture with the Giants counted as for their latest challenge, and I rolled my eyes.

"I thought we'd lost our burglar." Dwalin sighed in relief.

"We nearly lost my uncle and I." I reminded him, but Thorin chose to ignore what I said, glaring quite coldly down at Bilbo.

"He's been lost! Ever since he left home!" That was not true. He's just not used to - - "He should never have come." Bilbo's eyes grew from terror-stricken, to grief and shame-stricken in an instant, and I felt anger start flooding my systems. I knew Uncle was merely exhausted, and had several emotions broiling under that think skin, and all that, but still! That was rude. "He has no place amongst us." And that was ever ruder. My eyes narrowed. I got up and followed the others, helping Fili get Bombur on his feet. Bofur kept his hand on my shoulder as we walked toward a small cave, filing in hurriedly.

=#=#=#=#=

I have _never_ been so terrified in my life!

Fili almost _beat _me! Of course, there is the whole stuck-on-a-Giant's-knee thing, and that is terrifying in it's own right. In fact, my heart pounds painfully in my chest, constricting it horridly, as Fili's terror-stricken face soared away from me. Or was it that_ I_ soared away from _his_ face? Dunno. I clung to Kili as we were thrust about wildly, leading him into a safe jump across as the Giant's knee crashed into the mountainside. We were now safe. But what about Fili? My mind asked frantically.

There he was, horror written adorably on his face as he sailed across my vision, his sister clinging to the guy with that weird hat. Aww...how cute!

But all happy thoughts halted as the leg crashed into the ledge ahead. Fili! Our challenge! Who had won?! I raced forward, and to my great relief, the blonde idiot was still breathing, along with...oh, no! Where'd Bilbo go?! Eek! There he is, clinging for dear- -AILI?! The foolish Dwarf lass hurled herself, catching the Half-Ling as his hand slipped, and she caught him with a scream of pain. My blood pounded against my temples. Blast it all! I can't pull her up! We're about to lose both the lass and the Hobbit if...oh,dear. Thorin just swung down to the rescue. Aili and Bilbo were safe. I held my breath as the King-in-Exile slipped, but was soon hauled up by Dwalin. Flooded with relief, I sagged against the nearest person in relief. And found it to be Fili, of all Dwarves! I stood up straight, but before I could walk away, Fili drew me into a crushing embrace. I hesitantly returned it, fearful lest anyone see, and get ideas. I then smirked.

"I won."

"Nope."  
"5 slips."

"4."

"Well, with the whole Giant thing, I think that counts as at least 5 points altogether."

"No, it doesn't."

"Yes, it does! I won!" Fili growled, but we were swept along toward a small cave set into the mountain. I was feeling odd, like there was something hidden here...but I can't quite place it. The cave seemed empty, and Dwalin confirmed it when he went to search out the back. Nothing. Thorin proclaimed that no fires were to be lit.

"Get some sleep. We start at first light." I was too tired to argue about waiting for Gandalf, leaving that to Balin. But, judging by that look on Balin's face, it didn't go as planned. I then saw that Bofur, that adorable Dwarf with that odd little hat, gazing with the utmost concern at Aili. I settled down in a comfortable-ish niche, and wrapped myself in a somewhat dry blanket (which was a miracle in and of itself), smiling at the pair. Fili and Kili shared a relieved embrace with their sister and the two boys embraced, as well. Aili mentioned a promise they had made to their mother, and something about Rune-Stones in a scolding tone to her brothers. Cute. Then, as everyone collapsed wearily into their bedrolls, and Bofur headed toward the small niche at the mouth of the cave, a solitary sneeze rent the air.

=#=#=#=#=

I swiped at my nose with embarrassment. Geez! No one else was getting a cold! Nevertheless, I sneezed again, and was suddenly aware of how tired I was. I felt drained and ready to fall asleep on my feet. Bofur was there, once more supporting me as he led me over to the nook nearest the entrance. I couldn't find the strength to resist as Bofur wrapped a blanket around us, sitting us down for his watch. I felt heat rise in my cheeks, and couldn't figure out of it was due to the way I was feeling (meaning my cold) or at the closeness of Bofur.

"You don't look so good, Aili." I dimly hear Bofur say. I nodded slowly. I still felt like my head was swimming.

"Don't feel so good."

"Here, let's get ya warmed up. That'll help." I decided that this couldn't be so bad, as everyone was asleep, so I let Bofur tug me toward his chest. The warmth pouring off him (despite his wetness) felt so good against my cold, clammy skin...I slowly drifted off to sleep.

=#=#=#=#=

Someone accidentally nudging my foot woke me in an instant, but I remained as still as if nothing had happened. Or, I rolled over, acting like I was still asleep. I thought that maybe someone had just moved in their sleep and nudged me (it's entirely possible. We were _very_ cramped in this tiny cave.) so I just kept trying to fall asleep.

Until I heard soft footfalls. Bilbo...what was he doing?

"Where do ya think yer going?" Bofur. So...Bilbo was leaving? Is he insane?! It's still pouring rain, and those Giants still pose a _huge_ threat! What on this earth can the poor Half-Ling be thinking! I heard Aili snort slightly as she woke up, and I peeked stealthily over my shoulder to see that the pair was talking to Bilbo. I hope they keep it down. I need some sleep right now.

=#=#=#=#=

"Where do ya think yer going?" Bofur asked, startling me awake. I stood, wrapping the blanket around me. I felt a lot better, but my head still slightly spun. Bilbo gazed back with sadness in his eyes, yet his voice carried only determination.

"Back to Rivendell." I blinked, any grogginess long gone.

"Wait...Bilbo...Thorin didn't mean what he said." I whispered, and Bilbo gave a blank stare. "Really, he didn't. He can get that way when things get hectic, and he's not in control of the situation."

"But he was right!" Bilbo exclaimed, nearly raising. Bofur frowned. " It's better if I just leave you Dwarves to your work." He said, and turned to shuffle off once more.

"No, no! Yeh can't turn back now, eh? You're part o' the Company. Yer one o' us." Bofur called after him in a low tone. Bilbo, however, scoffed.

"I'm not, though, am I?" I blinked. Had Bilbo not heard me just a second ago?

"You are! Look at the contract, for Mahal's sakes! You signed that paper, and it says that you are part Company, so act like it! Thorin doesn't stay that way for long! Please Bilbo...he'll see you as one of us in no time. You may be miserable for a time with us..." Bilbo nodded in agreement. "But I can guarantee that if you go back to Rivendell...you will live out your days in regret." Bilbo's eyes narrowed.

"I don't think so. Thorin said I should never have come, and he was right. I'm not a Took. I'm a Baggins. I don't know what I was thinking." Bilbo almost smiled. "I should never have run out my door."

"Bilbo..."

"I'm serious!"

"So am I!"

"Yer jes' homesick! I understand." Bofur blurted. The effect was instant. Irritation and indignation flashed across Bilbo's face.

"No, you don't! You don't understand! None of you do."

"Bilbo..." Again, my voice trailed off. I wanted to tell him, _remind_ him really, of the fact that we are on this Quest _because_ we are homesick! We want to take back our home from the evil that took it long ago. But...for some reason...I couldn't force the words out past the lump in my throat.

"You're Dwarfs! You're used to _this_ life! To living on the road, never settling in one place, not _belonging_ anywhere." I gasped, my lips parting in shock, jaw hanging. I set my jaw.

"Bilbo...Erebor." I reminded him. The little Half-Ling blanched, realizing that those words truly hit home.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't-" He stammered. I swallowed. Regret and guilt seized the Hobbit then. He cleared his throat, grimacing at his own words.

"No, yer right." Bofur breathed, turning to gaze fondly at the sleeping Company, and I thought his gaze lingered on me for a tiny second longer than the others. "We don't belong anywhere." I then realized just how cruel this seemed to Bilbo, basically being forced onto this Quest by Gandalf, nearly dying several times already...I understood now why he wanted to leave. Bofur, did, as well. I could see it on his face.

"I wish you all the luck in the world." Bofur muttered. I gave my Half-Ling friend a warm squeeze on the shoulder with a sad smile. "I really do."

"Be careful, out there in the Wild. May Mahal protect yeh." I managed through my constricted throat. Bilbo patted my arm, just as Bofur squeezed his other shoulder, and Bilbo patted him, as well. At that moment, just as Bilbo turned away, revealing his sword, I noticed the blue light streaming strongly forth in the dark.

"Bofur..." I nudged him nodding toward Bilbo's sword.

"What's that?" Bofur asked, noticing the light as well. Bilbo blanched as he eased the sword half-way out of it's sheath. Hammer and stone! That means that...wait...what's that hissing sound?

I never got an answer as Thorin yelled for everyone to wake up (oh, blasttit all, he must have heard our conversation) and then I noticed the cracks in the floor, rushing toward us. I was starting to move away when the floor gave out beneath us, and we went tumbling down into the abyss below, thudding into one another, screaming all the while.

**TO BE CONTINUED...**


	8. Down, down, down in Goblin-Town

**EEK! OFF TO GOBLIN TOWN GO THE DWARVES. SO MUCH FOR LEAVING, EH, BILBO? ;)**

**SORRY IF THE CONVERSATION BETWEEN BOFUR, AILI AND BILBO SEEMS A BIT ALL OVER THE PLACE. I WANTED AILI TO ADD HER TWO CENTS, BUT STILL INCLUDE EVERYTHING FROM THE MOVIE, SO...OUT CAME THAT. ANYWAY...**

**GOD BLESS, AND GOOD DAY!**

**~LF221**

I felt Bofur tug me to him as we hit the stone tunnel-like slide. Funny. I never saw the tunnel before now.

_Ah! Oof!_ I lied. We bounced off the walls a few times..._then_ landed on the harsh, grating slide. As we banged off the rocks painfully, I lost Bofur, and I think I bruised a rib. Not to mention several other bruises, all over my body. And that's not the worst of it. We fell through several more sections of tunnel, tumbling and crying out in pain. I think I dislocated my shoulder, but it's probably just yet another heavy bruise. A very painful one. At last, we came crashing and tumbling into an open cage-like thing that looked disturbingly like a hand, ready to grab a-hold of us, squeezing us to death down here.

All thought was spent away as Bofur came crashing into my ribcage. I barked in pain. As the entire Company came hurtling down, I rolled out of the way, only to heave over the side of the cage-thing. My head's spinning made the world seem to rotate, making me nauseous. Bofur helped me up, and suddenly my cold wasn't that bad. However, there was barely any time for a 'thank you' as millions (or what seemed like millions in this tight space) of disgusting Goblins came running and screeching at us. We were herded out onto the path, the Goblins pinching and grabbing and shoving us down the rickety scaffolding. Bofur stolidly refused to leave me, fighting off Goblins nearly every second as we were forced down the pathway. Bilbo's head appeared, half-way obscured by Goblins. Our eyes met for a second, and I could see the fear and terror in his eyes, but also determination. Then, he nodded downward. I blinked. He had a way to get away? He needed to take it, to get away and somehow return with help...so I nodded back, and he was gone. Setting my jaw, I could only pray that maybe, just maybe...Bilbo could find a way to help...us...get...

_Clap, Snap. _

_The black crack._

_Grip, grab. _

_Pinch and Nab. Batter and beat._

_Make 'em stammer an' Squeak!_

_Pound, pound._

_Far underground..._

_Down, down, down in Goblin To-own._

"What is that?" I asked, and immediately regretted it as we rounded yet another corner, to see that the hugest, ugliest, _fattest,_ most horrifying Goblin I have ever seen was parading around the worst throne I have ever seen. "Can't say much about the décor." I muttered, only to be smacked upside the head. I saw stars, and dimly heard Bofur bark at a Goblin to leave me alone as his hands steadied me and the Goblin muttered about showing respect to the 'Great' Goblin. We were now being hustled onto the platform directly before the throne, as the giant Goblin continued singing.

_With a swish and a smack._

_And a whip and a crack._

_Everybody talks when they're on my rack._

_Pound, pound._

_Far underground..._

_Down, down, down to Goblin To-own._

Bofur growled. "If they so much as try anything..." He muttered darkly, face grimmer than I had ever seen on him, arm around my waist protectively. And really, I needed the support. I still felt drained and nauseous. Guess that cold wasn't as far behind me as I thought...

_Hammers and tongs, _

_Get yer knockers and gongs._

_You won't last long,_

_On the end of my prong!_

As if to emphasize his lyrics, the big Goblin (the King, I'm assuming.) speared one of his own subjects on his vile pointed scepter, swinging it around and flinging him away. The sight made my head swim.

_Clash, crash, _

_Crush and smash._

_Bang, break, _

_Shiver and shake._

_You can yammer and yelp, _

_But there ain't no help..._

_Pound, pound._

_Far underground..._

_Down, down, down in Goblin To-own! _

The horrendous song ended with the Goblin King twirling with no grace whatsoever, swaying slightly. We all had to duck as his scepter came swishing over us, and my head swam as I came back up. I clung to Bofur's strong arm, breathing heavily. The Goblin King slammed his scepter down in front of us. He then turned, and boosted himself up to his throne on the backs of several other Goblins. It was disgusting. Horrendous. It nearly made me gag as the shrieks and yelps rent the air.

"Catchy, isn't it?" The Goblin King demanded cockily. Nope. Not catchy at all.

=#=#=#=#=

Okay...even with my Elvin endurance...THAT. HURT!

I swear, Fili...if you give me one _snicker_, one adorable little _smirk._.. I will give you a reason to be in pain right...wait...that makes me sound like a total jerk, standing here threatening the Crown Prince while Fili is clutching his ribs in severe pain...doesn't it? Oops. I tried to help him up, but before I could get to him, hordes (and I mean _hordes_) of Goblins came at us, and we were swept away in a wave of ugly, _grabby _disgusting little bodies. No matter how much I fought (how much _any_ of us fought) we could do nothing to break free. Soon, a horrendous song rent the air, cleaving our ears. It was a song about torture, and the song was torture to listen to.

Funny how things happen like that, huh?

"I hear the service is terrible here." I muttered under my breath to Fili, and received a smack in the ribs. Fili barked at the Goblin, but I nudged his ribs before he would be killed. I like challenging him...he can't just go and die on me.

"It's one of my own compositions." The Great Goblin declared proudly. Balin, who stood beside me, growled.

"That's not a song!" He cried. "It's an abomination!" Everyone joined in agreeing with the Elder Dwarf. I blanched. If we offend this guy...we are doomed.

"Not wise, White-Beard. Not wise..." The Great Goblin chuckled merrily. I shuddered.

"Abominations! Mutations! Deviations! That's all your gonna find down here." I gulped. Our weapons were then confiscated, but these idiotic (though grabby as I'll get out) Goblins failed to take the daggers in my boots. I refused to budge as the belt holding my sword was wrenched off my waist. Two or three Goblins searched Fili, and found several of his knives. But he had shown me all of his hidden weapons. They hadn't found all of his, either. I smirked. Maybe, just maybe, we could fight off the Goblins and dish out the Company's weapons. We might stand a chance then. But, gazing around at the _very_ large crowd of Goblins...we wouldn't, even if we were all up to prime fitness, and had Gandalf. There are just too many of these foul creatures...and Aili looks ready to drop dead, clinging to Bofur like a life-line.

"Who would be so bold as to come armed into my kingdom?!" The Goblin King suddenly screeched. My eyes widened. We were done for...

And is it just me...or does this Goblin sound like..._him?_

=#=#=#=#=

My head was sent ringing by the raised voices, so I couldn't make out what the Goblin King just said.

"Dwarves, you're malevolence!" A Goblin answered proudly.

"Dwarves?!"

"Found 'em on the Front Porch." The Great Goblin frowned.

"Well, don't just stand there. Search them!" I was set upon by those things again, and found that they completely missed my Rune-Stone. If they had taken that...thrown it away...So help me...These Goblins would _pay_. My head was pounding too much to resist, and Bofur couldn't do much without moving me, which would only make my head pound more. It was a cruel predicament. I saw poor Oin's trumpet thrown to the ground and smashed. Then, some Goblin brought a small duffel bag forward, ripping it open roughly, and pouring it out. My breath caught. The bag was full of Elvin trinkets!

NNOORRII! That little...he's doomed us all.

"It is my belief, Your Great Protuberance," The Goblin that opened the bag said slowly...holding a candlestick out for the Great Goblin to inspect, "that they are in league with Elves!" No one dared speak a word for fear of worsening out situation. I couldn't speak at all. My stomach was churning too much. The Great Goblin flipped the candlestick around.

"'Made in Rivendell'." He read aloud. He clicked his tongue. "Second Age. Couldn't give it away." Everyone, especially Dori, glared at Nori, who blanched.

"Jes' a couple ah keepsakes." He muttered. Mithra's jaw hit the floor.

"'Keepsakes'?!" She screeched. "Are you _kidding_ me?!"

"Sorry." Nori replied meekly. I massaged my temples wearily, hoping that the motions would ease away the pain. It didn't.

"What _are_ you doing in these parts?!" The Goblin King growled. Thorin made to step forward, and my heart skipped a beat. If that Goblin recognizes my Uncle...we were most certainly doomed. Thankfully, Oin stopped him.

"Uh, don't worry lads. I'll handle this." Good thinking. Stall for time. Stall for time...we'll think of a way outta this. Hopefully. Oi, my head...

"No tricks. I want the truth, warts and all."

Nonplussed, Oin just stared blankly back at the Goblin King. "Yer gonna havta speak up. Yer boys flattened meh trumpet." The effect was instant; the Great Goblin came hurtling at the healer, eyes blazing with fury.

"I'll flatten more than yer trumpet!"Just before Oin was in any serious danger...Bofur dragged himself and me forward. His arm refused to let me go. Not that I really mind...

"If it's more information yeh want...I'm the one you should talk to." Bofur called.

"What are you doing?" I whispered.

"Trust me." He whispered back, and I found myself doing just that.

"Mm-Hmm?"

"We were on the road. Well, it's not so much a road as a path. It's not even that, come to think of it. It's more of a track."

"Or even really just a ledge." I found myself adding. Bofur grinned at me. My stomach did it's odd flipping trick, which wasn't helping my nausea at all.

"Anyway," Bofur went on, "We were on the road, like a path, like a track."

"Like a ledge."

"Uh-huh. And then...we weren't! And that's a problem, cus we were supposed to be in Dunland last Tuesday." He then turned to look at the Company, stuck for an excuse, desperate expression evident. Dori spoke up next.

"Visiting distant relations." He said, nodding slightly. Bofur then quirked a brow at me.

"Right! Introducing some inbreds on my mother's side to my fiance here." He said, squeezing me harder to him. I blushed several shades of red. His...what?! Trying desperately to keep up the story, I wrapped my arms around Bofur's waist, forcing a smile through my swimming head. "Oh, and my young cousin over there," He said, nodding to where Fili stood." and his fiance." Mithra and Fili blushed horridly.

Mahal...was this awkward.

=#=#=#=#=

WHAT?! Oh, NO! MAHAL, NO!

I am _not_ pretending to be in _love_ with Fili! No way, no how! No WAY!

...Oh, _geez,_ Fili...ever hear of personal space?! Oh-okay...his arm is just around my shoulders. Not that bad...oh, dear, Fili just grabbed my hand. I forced a grin, and yet my eyes blazed toward Bofur's back, as if I could drill into it with a mere look. Thankfully, the Great Goblin apparently didn't notice...Mahal is this awkward...geez.

Bofur and I will have _words_ when we get outta this...

=#=#=#=#=

"Shut up!" The Great Goblin suddenly roared, seeing through our terrible cover story. Bofur lowered his head. His beard tickled my cheek...a shiver ran down my spine. "If they will not talk..." Bofur's arms gripped my waist in a more possessive way, his eyes now stormy. "We'll make them squawk!" I gripped Bofur's arm. His thumb traced the small of my back in a comforting gesture. Dread's heavy weight descended into my stomach (nearly making me gag) even before the Great Goblin listed off a few torture devices he wished to use on us. My heart pounded into my temples painfully, and my head thought it was an anvil, my mouth and throat feeling like a desert. And that was before the Goblin King's next words. He pointed to Ori.

"Start with the youngest."

=#=#=#=#=

I have _never_ seen Ori so terrified or Fili so mad. I thought about reaching for the knives in my boots, but I knew that there would be too many possible repercussions. But my heart ached at the thought of the little Dwarf dying like this. After Ori, they would work up the Company, youngest to oldest, meaning that Fili's turn would be only a couple after Ori. Only his siblings stood between the two. I felt sick. I couldn't imagine what must be going through everyone's heads, but then Aili's struggling against Bofur's strong arms brought my attention. Bofur tried to still the lass before the...too late. The commotion had also grabbed the Goblin King's attention. He held up a hand. The goblins froze where they stood.

"Wait! Start...with the females!" A sickening weight crashed into my stomach. Aili looked pale as a sheet, if she hadn't when she fell into this foul place. That rainstorm had brought on a cold in Aili. I could see it. Her energy was being sorely taxed. I resolved to at least try to protect her, but before I could, something happened that I will never forget.

=#=#=#=#=

Goblins held my arms behind me in a painful fashion and dragged me away from the others. I felt only slightly better that I had managed to at least stall my brothers' deaths. And Bofur's. Poor Bofur. He was trying his best to get to me, fists flying in all directions, but it did neither of us any good. Then...

"_Wait_!" Oh, _no..._Icy tendrils of fear and numbing horror laced through my veins then, as Uncle came forward. The Goblins holding me froze where they stood, unsure of what to do know. My stomach plummeted. "You will _not_ so much as _touch_ her!" Uncle growled. My mouth went dry. I licked my lips. All I could think was: _I'm not worth it, Uncle...I'm not worth it. _But just as I opened my mouth to voice my thoughts, the damage was done. The Great Goblin had seen and recognized Thorin. I worked my jaw, abject terror visible. The Goblins released me at a wave of the Goblin King's hand. Bofur's arms secured me once more. I buried my face in his strong chest, tearing burning in my eyes...this couldn't be happening. He stroked my hair. I was too numb to feel the tingle that action sent up my spine. I did, however, feel Uncle's reassuring hand squeeze my shoulder briefly as he passed me, moving to the front of the Company. I suppressed a sob as more tears slid down my cheeks. This couldn't be happening...this just couldn't...

"Well, well, well..." The Great Goblin chuckled. "Look who it is. Thorin, son of Thrain, son of Thror, King Under the Mountain." He said mockingly, and anger was added to my grief. My fists clenched in Bofur's tunic. His hands rubbed my back. I could feel the Dwarf's anger through his hands. "Oh, but I'm forgetting! You don't _have_ a Mountain. And you're not a king. So that makes you...nobody, really." I growled, fists clenching harder at the Goblin who mocked and profaned my family's name. I was finally able to bring myself to bring my head out of Bofur's tunic. I found Thorin standing tall with his head held high and proud. And I watched as some sick idea came to the Great Goblin. One he seemed rather excited about. I shuddered.

"But...I know someone...who'll pay a pretty price for your head." He chuckled. "Just a head. Nothing attached." This _has_ _got_ to be some sick joke. A form of torture. Once more I buried my face in Bofur's rough tunic, his beard rubbing my cheeks. That monster couldn't mean..._him_, could it? _He_ had died long ago, slain in the Battle for Moria. The Goblin King was using the Pale Orc just to get under my Uncle's skin. Thorin pointed out that he knew precisely of whom the Goblin spoke (with an impressive lack of breakage in his voice, despite the terrible memories the Goblin stirred up), and that said Orc was dead (had been for a long time). The Great Goblin turned to some form of scribe to tell him to send word to the Pale Orc...and I suddenly became less sure of how much of what the Goblin said was false. Bofur's arms squeezed me, just as the Goblins returned with the requested instruments of torture, and the band struck up another tune. It took two Goblins to tear me away, as they started lining us up for the racks.

I have _never_ seen Bofur so infuriated and desperate then at that moment.

=#=#=#=#=

Why does this guy keep thinking we like his singing?! News flash: We. Do. _Not_. Nonetheless, the King-of-all-things-gross started singing once more.

_Bones will be shattered,_

_Necks will be wrung!_

_You'll be beaten and battered,_

_From racks you'll be hung!_

_You will die down here, _

_And never be found!_

_Down in the Deep of Goblin-Town!_

Mercifully, the song ended then. Now that it had, I could hear Fili's feral growls as he was forced away from me and Kili and into his slot in the line for the racks that were getting ever closer, borne forward by several cheering Goblins. These things are everywhere. I was glad to be on Fili's good side as his fists flew in all directions. A pretty pointless effort, as there were simply too many Goblins between us. And then, as if our situation _needed _to get worse...one of the Goblins found Thorin's Elvin sword, shrieking like it could leap up and attack him, casting it away as if it were scorching him. I braced myself for the worst.

=#=#=#=#=

"I know that sword1" The Great Goblin cried, as if from far away. "It is the Goblin-Cleaver!" The effect was instantaneous: Goblins shrieking in rage, coupled with fear. It was admittedly nice to see _them_ trembling in fear for once. But then, the anger drove out their fear, and they came at us with savage kicks, punches and cruel, stringing whips. The pain made my head whirl. I felt chilled and heated at the same time as blow after blow landed. My armor protected my torso, but sadly even that rent, and it dug into my skin when I moved. Any bruised ribs I had before were now broken. My shoulder was popped out of socket and I could swear that Bofur turned into an animal trying to get to me. All I heard from him were feral growls. He beat back those Goblins that had dared attack me as my head filled with clouds and a high-pitched ringing filled my ears again. I was reminded _never_ to get on Bofur's bad side.

=#=#=#=#=

I did not know Dwarves could growl as much ferocity to it as the growls that emitted from Fili's throat. His fists flew in every direction as he fought to get to me. The Goblins kept him at bay, however, as their whips, fists and kicks rained down on him. The sight brought a certain energy to my veins, but (try as I might) I could not get to my friend. None of them. So many Goblins swarmed around the Company and me, each and every one of us. The one I was most concerned about was Aili. She had been sick in the cave...and this could _not_ be healthy for her. Or anyone, really. That rainstorm really did a number on Aili, though.

AGH! Darn Goblin whips! It's almost like...back _then_..._no_! I am _not_ thinking about that...

I vowed never to. _Ever_ again.

=#=#=#=#=

Just when I thought there was nothing else that could happen...something did.

I saw Thorin, pinned securely by at least two (but quite possibly three) foul Goblins. One of them raised a sword to obey it's King's command to slice my uncle's head off. My vision tunneled until all I saw was my uncle, at the mercy of those Goblins...

_Not if I have anything to say about it, they won't!_

That thought sent a renewed energy and certain clarity slamming into my actions. With a loud roar and wild, frenzied movements I tore forward.

Only for a large blast of what felt like wind and looked like white light slammed into my gut, and I flew back several feet. I tumbled a few times, and that previous energy spike now abandoned me as I lay across Kili's torso, wincing when he moved his arms and his gauntlets scraped my bad ribs. Then, we both lay there, too breathless to do anything.

=#=#=#=#=

What...in Durin's...name...was that?! That pulse of...whatever it was...stole my breath away. I lay there, panting as Fili's hand finds mine somehow. I can't find the energy to resist (besides, it's not as awkward as it was when Bofur...oh, dear, I'm blushing just thinking about it.) as several things started slowly clicking in my head...and faint, scuffling footsteps and raspy breaths were all that was heard in the sudden heavy and oppressive silence.

Gandalf...did this same thing a few times during my stay with him...I had almost forgotten.

And just like that, I snatched my hand away from Fili, who was adorably dazed on the floor, a new energy and determination powering me as both the Dwarves and Goblins started recovering, just as I grabbed my weapons, and cleaved a Goblin threatening Fili in two before offering the Dwarf a hand up. He took it as all around us became chaos. Gandalf, yelling for everyone to fight...the Company acting like some choreographed group of dancers, rather than fighters. It was beautifully deadly. I felt a twinge of guilt for inserting myself into all this. Shaking it off, and joining in the fight where I could, I suddenly became aware of the Great Gross-ness, swinging his scepter right at Thorin's head!

=#=#=#=#=

"Thorin!" Me, Mithra and Nori screamed. I felt irritation rise at the memory of the duffel bag...how that Dwarf could steal from the Elves...I then smirked in satisfaction as the Great Goblin was suddenly gone, over the side of the ravine. Gandalf screamed at us to run, and we did. Down several lengths of scaffolding, and I have never found myself relying so much on adrenaline as I am right now. The only good thing was that Bofur and my brothers were right beside me, hacking and slashing at Goblins as we passed them. I sure hope Gandalf knows where he's going here...because I don't think anyone else does. I suck in breaths and let them out quickly as I run. Just breath...just breath...oh, Mahal, my ribs _ache_!

=#=#=#=#=

Dwalin is a mad genius! Using a railing post to knock aside stray Goblins...man, this guy is good. I noticed with dismay and growing concern that Aili stayed behind those carrying the post, huffing with the uttermost exhaustion. I knew she was getting worse...I set my jaw and charged with more force, causing Fili to grit his teeth. We had a challenge going right now. 'Who can get out of Goblin-Town the quickest'. So far, I was winning. Guess all that running after _that_ from...GRR! I _told_ you not to think about _that,_ Mia...

Then, it was back to simultaneously fighting and running down more and more scaffolding. Will this never end?!

=#=#=#=#=

My breath comes in ragged gasps, and I am constantly feeling as though my legs will give out any second. Nevertheless, I press on, hacking and smacking Goblins away. I distantly notice that everyone is looking off to the side. I can't hear what's said (there was a pounding in my ears), but I knew what to do somehow. I sliced a rope, and watched as the scaffolding above us collided with several swinging Goblins, and they plummeted over the edge. We pressed on. I found my adrenaline growing less and less as we ran and fought.

=#=#=#=#=

I found myself next Balin at one point as we fought off Goblins left and right. I was frankly amazed at this Dwarf's dexterity with a sword. It was almost like a living thing in his hands...an extension of his arm.

"Nice moves, White-Beard!"

"Name's Balin!" He cried back, swinging the sword up to cleave a Goblin head off.

"White-Beard's more fun!" He groans but runs after me quickly. With no more Goblins, we could ill afford to waste a peaceful moment. We ran and ran, and I passed Fili again, just hearing his groan over my heart pounding. We cut the ropes on a ledge, and sent several more Goblin hurtling to their dooms. Then, we pressed on again. Even with my Elvin side being an advantage over my Dwarfish lineage...I'm getting tired. I can only imagine what Aili's going through.

=#=#=#=#=

"Kili!" I scream, and he barely sees Goblin archers firing at him before it's too late. He sends at least three arrows flying away before gripping a ladder in his hands. I let others grab it before me. I would only slow them down if I were in front. My legs are tightening and my side cramps every time I run. I know that when this adrenaline I am powered by runs out...I may cry from the pain! As soon as we came to a gap in the scaffolding, we let the ladder act like a bridge, and Dwalin sent the Goblins on the ladder down into the abyss before sprinting after us. Then, we had to gather on one swinging section of scaffolding (nearly making me nauseous.) and Bofur gripped my arm painfully (right on top of a whip mark!) and lept with me, and we watched as the others lept off the second time the ledge came around. As Fili and Mithra cut the supporting ropes while leaping toward safety, I could swear that Fili's arms flailed out behind him as he landed. Mithra giggled, so I can assume that that actually happened as we sprint ahead yet again.

=#=#=#=#=

"What was _that_?!"

"What was _what_?!"

"That flailing thing you just did!"

"What about it?!"

"My jump was more majestic!"

"No!"

"Yes!" I called back as I grinned and pressed on. Aili suddenly appeared and was racing along beside us, though I could see bags under her eyes, which were blazing with pain. Or was that the funky lighting? I can't tell...

"Shut up and keep running, you two!" She said, glowering at us. Fili frowns, but I take off harder, and he has to catch up. I knew Fili would just stop and ask Aili what was wrong, and we needed to get outta here first. And, in another spectacular show of magic, Gandalf snapped a large boulder-sized rock off a stalactite and the Dwarves directed it. It crushed any Goblins for a good ten feet or so, but more were already taking their place. Geez, there isn't an end to these things, is there?!

I kept running, slicing any Goblins in my way. At last, I saw the ending of our journey! Finally! I haven't felt this out of breath since..._stoppit! _

Gloin, Balin and Dori tore across the final stretch of scaffolding, and suddenly Gandalf was ahead of everyone. And it was just as well, for up from the depths came the Great Goblin himself. Don't ask me how, cus I don't know.

"You thought you could escape me?!" He roared, slamming his scepter down forcefully. Yeah, actually...still do, thank you very much!

Aw, crap! The Goblin King smashed his scepter at Gandalf's feet, then swiped it quickly at Gandalf's waist as the Wizard stumbled back. Before he could fall, though, Ori and Nori caught him, and started shoving him back up.

=#=#=#=#=

"What are you going to do now, Wizard?!" The Goblin King's voice sounded far away. Not gonna lie...I was grateful for the rest as Gandalf dealt with the Great Goblin (who apparently didn't know when it was time to DIE!) by poking its eye with his staff before slicing his stomach. The Goblin screamed in pain and collapsed to his knees. _My, my, how the tables have turned..._

I mused as the Great Goblin seemed to contemplate what Gandalf had done.

"That'll do it." He noted, nodding. Gandalf grimaced, and sliced the fatal blow to the Goblin's neck and he collapsed.

Then, the floor gave out, and we were sent careening toward the bottom of the ravine. I screamed, feeling like I was gonna fall off, despite Bofur's protective arms around me. He held me securely, and it was a good thing. It was quite the bumpy ride until the ledge we were on caught on the narrowing rocks, allowing us a merely painful fall. Boards rained all around us. Someone's sword clipped my good shoulder (as if I _needed_ to have something else happen to me!) and I saw that Bofur's arms are now around the small of my back (too low for my tastes, if you ask me) and he started heaving me out.

"Well, that could've been worse!" Bofur chirped. Mia jumped on his head and landed gracefully on the floor. Bofur frowned, and I followed Mia a second after, and frowned at her. Show-off. I then chuckled. Bofur was already back to smiling.

"Nothing ever damp-AH!" I was cut off by the sudden loud crashing sound of the body of the Great Goblin crashing down on the Dwarves that remained in the scaffolding. They muttered curses under their breath. Gandalf, as per usual, came out perfectly fine, dusting himself off. I then noticed Kili's horror-stricken gaze, directly above us.

"Gandalf!" He screamed, and as I was right beside him, helping Fili down, my ears were set ringing again. I barely heard Gandalf mutter about daylight, and take off running again. I huffed and took off once more. Bofur was beside me again and he gazed worriedly at me. I frowned and tried to put a little more power into my strides. It only resulted in the last of my adrenaline running out. And to top my _perfect_ situation off, we emerged quite suddenly into nearly direct sunlight.

And let's just say...my skull did _not _like it! _Valar_, this _hurts_!

I closed my eyes and hurled myself down hill, using the pounding feet all around me as a guide until my eyes adjusted. I came to a stumbling halt, and Bofur was at my side again as I leaned against a tree, panting heavily.

"Are yeh alright, lass?" He asked, hand on my upper arm, rubbing it comfortingly. I opened my mouth to make some smart reply, when Gandalf voiced a question, one that made my blood freeze. I felt my body seize up with guilt.

"Where's Bilbo?" Mahal...was...was Bilbo still in that mountain...or worse yet, had he been...no, please no! One single thought formed in my mind as I called to mind the last look Bilbo had given me. The fear, terror, and yet...determination. I had told him to take that opportunity to get away, to come back for us...

What had I done?

**JUST SO WE'RE CLEAR...AILI FEELS RESPONSIBLE FOR BILBO, AS SHE WAS THE ONE THAT SENT HIM AWAY, THAT GAVE HIM THAT LITTLE NUDGE TO TAKE THAT LEAP OF FAITH. **

**THAT'S WHAT'S WITH THE 'WHAT HAVE I DONE?' THING. ALSO, AILI IS NOT JUST BEING OVER DRAMATIC HERE! SHE'S IN INTENSE PAIN, AND IT'S MAKING HER FEEL WEIRD.**

**IN OTHER NEWS, ROMANCE (NOT TELLING WHICH COUPLE, THOUGH) MAY BE NEXT CHAPTER, MAY NOT BE. WE'LL SEE. PROBABLY BE AN EPILOGUE, THOUGH...**

**AND THOSE WHO HAVE A GUESS AS TO WHAT MITHRA IS CONSTANTLY REFERRING TO...I'D LOVE TO HEAR THEM! **

**TIL NEXT TIME!**


	9. An Old Enemy and a Hatred Rekindled

**HERE Y'ALL ARE! **

**IF I HAVEN'T SAID IT ENOUGH TIMES ALREADY, _PLEASE REVIEW_! FEED THIS HUNGRY AUTHOR, PEOPLE! AM I FAILING? SUCCEEDING? WHAT IS MITHRA HIDING?! I MEAN, IKNOW I'VE SAID SOMETHING ABOUT HER BROTHER 'NOT TREATING HER RIGHT', BUT WHAT EXACTLY DOES THAT MEAN? THAT'S WHAT I WANT TO SEE IF Y'ALL CAN GUESS. **

**OH, AND TELLING YOU NOW...MIA WAS NOT...ASSAULTED BY HER OWN BROTHER, OKAY? GEEZ...GET YOUR MIND OUTTA THE GUTTER...**

**ANYWAY...**

**GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

**~LF221**

"Where is our Hobbit?" Gandalf asked softly, looking around as if to find our missing member amongst us. I barely heard Gandalf over my pounding heart. I was the one who gave Bilbo the confidence to slip away...and in doing so...had I doomed that innocent little Half-Ling? Mahal...Those Goblins will pay in _blood_ if that's the case. In other news, my vision was foggy, and my breath wouldn't catch up to my body's needs. My head felt stuffed with cotton while my shoulders felt only the weight of guilt, and my gut churned in repulsion, just thinking of what those Goblins could have done to my poor little friend. "Where is our Hobbit?!" Gandalf repeated in a much fiercer tone. The effect was immediate: Dwarves arguing, complaining, or looking around in growing apprehension when Bilbo refused to simply appear.

"Curse that Half-Ling!" Dwalin spat. "Now he's lost?!"

"Not necessarily, Dwalin..." I replied, feeling a little shaky, as I wasn't too sure myself. Gloin seemed to agree with me.

"I thought he was with Dori!" Dori scoffed, indignant.

"Don't look at me!" Gandalf whirled on the angry little Dwarf.

"Well, where did you last see him?"

"I think I saw him slip away when they first collared us." Nori offered helpfully, hand raised as if to ask permission to speak. Clearly, he was trying to make up for his screw up. I would've felt more sympathy for him if pickpocketing (from anyone, ending up with him in trouble) wasn't a frequent occurrence with him.

"That may have been my fault." I added, arms crossed over my churning stomach.

"And what happened, exactly?" Gandalf demanded, coming closer.

"I saw him, and he seemed like he had some form of a plan, then he-"

"Saw his chance and he took it!" Thorin finished for me, saying the complete opposite of what I had intended to say. I knew I shouldn't, but...I spoke up against my uncle. He was in a position of leadership over me (especially in our family) but...I did it anyway...

"No! He wouldn't!"

"He's thought of nothing but his soft bed and warm hearth since he fist stepped out of his door!" Uncle shot back. By now, I was too angry to care that Thorin was, in fact, (for all intents and purposes) my father. I was just so upset that Thorin would so easily doubt and cast Bilbo aside, when the Half-Ling may just need us the most right now.

"I'm telling you! You didn't see what I-"

"We will not be seeing our Hobbit again!"

"You're wrong about him!" I shouted, earning many incredulous stares, even from Uncle. I was seething mad right now...

"_Enough!"_ Thorin roared and stepped forward, face inches from mine, looking ready to slap me full across the face. My eyes widened. My breath hitched and shuddered. "You would do well to remember your _place_, Aili! You have _no_ say in this!" He spat, and took a step back. To keep himself from striking me, I guessed. I felt the anger drain away. Uncle's words cut deep...and I felt hot tears trail down my face. "Believe me, Bilbo's long gone!" The atmosphere grew tense, no one daring to speak in the wake of the previous argument. I then heard something move behind me.

"No. he isn't." My eyes snapped wide, and the tears brimmed once more. Could it be...I spun on my heel (pointedly ignoring my light-headedness) and indeed met Bilbo's happily smirking face, standing just behind me. I smiled into the back of my hand to hide the tears and took a few steps back, feeling the weight of guilt for Bilbo's fate heaved off (and I completely missed Bilbo's lack of all but one button). Gandalf came forward, grin large enough to spit his face.

"Bilbo Baggins! I have never been so happy to see anyone in my life!" Thorin's ax thudded to the ground, a disbelieving stare aimed at the newly returned Half-Ling. We all breathed a huge sigh of relief, and I felt dizzy, I was so happy. Bilbo came forward, smiling broadly at me and patting Balin's shoulder as he did.

=#=#=#=#=

Okay...I have always known Aili was a brave, fierce little girl...but to do _that_, _knowing_ the possible repercussions...that took a special kind of bravery. I've never felt prouder of either Bilbo or Aili. I happened to be standing near the brothers, Fili and Kili (there are just too many pairs of siblings of this Quest to simply say 'the brothers' and not specify) and Fili's hand kept trying to crawl back to mine. I kept smacking it away. We weren't _that_ close. Not like Aili and Bofur, who were now holding hands again. Aww...

Wait...what happened to Bilbo's buttons? All but one (the topmost one) is missing. What on earth?

"Bilbo..." Kili breathed, as if not quite believing the vision in front of him. "We'd given you up!" Trust Kili to be this brutally honest. Only Kili. Fili was frowning in thought, looking adorable while doing it...

"How on earth did you get past the Goblins?" His expression was one I recognized as bewilderment.

"How indeed." Dwalin muttered. As Bilbo fumbled for words, thumbs in his pocket, Aili spoke up again.

"Like Nori said...he slipped away." But Fili was not satisfied.

"Yeah...but what exactly-"

"Well, what does it matter?" Gandalf interrupted gently. "He's back."

"Safe and sound." Aili added. Bilbo chuckled as he took a few more steps forward.

=#=#=#=#=

"It matters." Thorin growled, but not with the same raging undertone tone he had taken with me. "I want to know. Why did you come back?" He asked Bilbo. I smiled at the Hobbit, just...so proud of him. He made it out okay. And he came back after his words in the cave...that took a certain courage. The silence went on until I was about to say something about how Uncle shouldn't just...never mind. I'm already in enough trouble with Thorin as it is. Bilbo gulped.

"Look, I know you doubt me. I know you always have." He was replying to Thorin directly, but I knew that he was also talking to those Dwarves that had regarded him with _almost_ less than pleased looks when he suddenly stood among us again. Those Dwarves now shuffled their feet, ashamed. They numbered fewer than I thought. "And you're right. I often think of Bag-End." He shrugged. "I miss my books. And my armchair and my garden." I smiled. He was not the quivering little Half-Ling that ran out of Bag-End, clutching the contract. He was not even the Bilbo that stalled for time against three Mountain Trolls...No, this was an altogether new kind of Bilbo and yet...still the same. "See, that's where I belong. That's home." He smiled. "And that's why I came back, because..." We all waited with baited breath as Bilbo thought of what he wanted to say next. No one dared speak. "you don't have one. A home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can." Bilbo...you adorable little Half-Ling you! Tears sprang anew in my eyes and I stepped forward and embraced him in a hug.

"I can honestly say that I was about to charge right back into the mountain and rescue you if you hadn't shown up." I said. I then whispered in his ear. "Told ya you'd regret it if you left." Bilbo scoffed lightly.

"You think I'd regret missing all _that_?" I smiled warmly at him.

"No...I think you'd regret missing all _this._" I said, gesturing to the smiling Company. "Welcome back." Bilbo sighed.

"Good to be back." Nobody knew what to say beyond what had already been said. Unfortunately, there was no time to even start contemplating as a sudden sharp, piercing noise rent the air...the bark of a Warg. More than one.

_Oh, come on! Really?! Can't we catch a break?! Just one tiny one?_

I thought as Gandalf paled. Even Thorin looked a little scared. "Out of the frying pan..." Uncle muttered.

"And into the fire." Gandalf finished before yelling at us to run. We had already drawn weapons, even before we took off again, and the fact that we were heading downhill was the only thing that kept me running forward. My legs were cramping again and my ribs ached. We heard pounding paws and the growls grew louder as we ran. Suddenly, I found a hidden reserve of energy I never knew I had. My heart pounded against my temples again, and so I never heard Bilbo's squeak as he barely avoided a Warg that lept over him, landing directly behind me, nipping unsuccessfully at me. I turned to attack, but it was too late. My heart lept into my throat as the Warg lept at Bilbo as if in slow-motion. Then, Bilbo's little sword was halfway up to the handle in the beast's skull. The Hobbit looked white as a ghost, shaking slightly as he stared into space. By now, the twilight had been succeeded by night's darkness. I felt myself sliding back into simultaneously running and fighting, feeling numbed to any pain, as pure willpower flowed through me. Before coming to an abrupt halt.

We had arrived at a dead end, with nowhere to go but over a cliff face. I was backing up to make a running grab at a nearby tree branch even before Gandalf ordered us 'up into the trees'. Bilbo wasn't. He remained shocked and trembling before the Warg he had slain.

"Climb, Bilbo! Climb!" Gandalf cried. That did the trick. Bilbo snapped out of his shock, and started heaving his sword out of the dead Warg's head. Just as several Wargs ripped down the hill, I reached down and pulled Bilbo to safety, scooting him up to the branch above me. He gripped it and hoisted himself higher to make room for my own ascent.

A good thing, too. Wargs bit at the space our feet had barely just left behind. And then...they stopped. And my heart stopped, my stomach weighed down with dread as I turned to see why. Out of my nightmares, out of some dark corner of the world came Azog.

Or I assume it's him. I have never _seen_ him, but Thorin's descriptions gave me nightmares that were only eased away by my brothers, smoothing my hair and whispering to me.

"Azog." I heard Thorin breath through the white noise filling my ears. The Pale Orc was smiling. I was shivering. Azog seemed to take a large sniff of the air, still smiling smugly. Thorin's face turned several shades lighter. Then, Azog said something in a guttural tongue I hadn't heard often. I heard Uncle call it Black Speech when he tried to convince Balin to include it in our lessons. Balin wouldn't. Thorin eventually stopped trying. And yet...I seemed to understand what he was saying...it was weird.

"_Do you smell _it?" Thorin's face tensed, his entire body rigid. A sick sense of dread pulled at my stomach. Poor Uncle.. "_The scent of fear? I remember your father reeked of it...Thorin, son of Thrain."_ Thorin was panting now, body tensed as if he wanted to leap out and end this curse on our family's name. I prayed he wouldn't. He seemed to almost be in tears.

"It cannot be." He breathed, tone almost pleading. Azog then pointed his mace at my uncle, and my heart skipped a beat. And that was before the Pale Orc spoke again.

"_That one is mine...kill the others!_" Instantly I was swinging myself higher (growling away the pain this caused), as the Wargs descended. They bit and chomped at the branches when they couldn't get at us. Me, Bilbo, and a few others I can't really see clung to our branches as the tree was uprooted and sent crashing into another tree. We jumped and a branch slammed into my stomach, causing a sharp scream to erupt. Bilbo's eyes snapped wide, and his head swung in my direction. But I was already getting into a better position, gritting my teeth in a futile attempt to banish my pain. I had to keep moving as more trees fell.

=#=#=#=#=

This...no...this can't be happening! That..._thing_ in front of me...smiles like..._him_. It feels like I'm back _there_...okay...just stop thinking about that...just stop. Take deep breaths. Deep breaths...in...out.

There you go. I feel a hand gripping my shoulder and I look up to see Fili's adorably concerned blue eyes. They're asking if I'm alright. I nod, and climb higher, preparing to jump as the tree I am standing on collapses into another one. I hear a sharp scream of pain, just as Aili's gut hits a branch. That poor girl...she sounds I did _then..._Stop that!

I shift and leap again as trees are falling everywhere, bloodthirsty Wargs tearing at anything in their way. We have to leap once more and find that just about all of the Company clings to a branch in the same tree. This is _not_ good. The tree we are on...nearly hangs over a cliff. The only thing that's keeping us from certain doom are the roots that still cling to the ground. The tree is nearly horizontal now, buts holds.

Thank Durin. Then...Gandalf pulls off yet another feat of legerdemain. He sets a pine-cone on fire, hurling it at the Wargs, creating a wall of fire between us and our aggressors. He lit more and tossed them to any and everyone. We tossed them toward the Wargs, and they withdrew. Everyone cheered our victory, but I knew there was still the matter of getting down from the tree. Which was starting to slip.

=#=#=#=#=

My ribs and shoulder ached more then ever and I think I have yet more bruises as I cling to the tree that now literally hangs from a few threads of roots that desperately cling to the earth. My breath is in gasps, and my heart hammers away at my ribcage. Especially as dear little Ori topples off his branch, and barely catches his brother's legs. Dori grunted in pain and nearly fell himself. He stayed there, huffing as he tried to get back into a more secure position on the branch he was gripping with white knuckles. His face paled as he slipped further and further down the length of what little arm remained on the branch.

"Mister Gandalf!" He screamed, just as his hands finally slipped. I gasped and made a move to grab hold of him, but I was too far away. I could only watch with growing fear. Until Gandalf's staff shot out, just in time for Dori to grab it. I sagged against the branch in relief(nearly losing my grip in the process). Gandalf grunted as the weight caught and he tried to pull the two Dwarves up. My heart refused to calm down yet. Then I heard a sound that suddenly had my heart stopped. The sound of my Uncle's growl. My mind, in it's growing panic, could only form one coherent thought: _Uncle...Don't. Don't give that filth what he wants...please._

Too late to do or say anything, I slowly turned my head to find Thorin, Orcrist in hand and oaken shield upon his arm, tearing down the trunk of the tree. Abject terror such as nothing I have felt previously filled me then. Fear tunneled my vision til I saw nothing but Uncle and Azog. As if in slow-motion...I saw Thorin's charge, and Azog leaned down on his beast, urging it forward and it lept obediently. Tears filled my eyes as dread clenched my gut and fear churned my stomach. Thorin tried to swipe at the White Warg as it lept over him, but was struck across the face with it's paw instead. He yelled in pain and gasped as he hit the ground. The Warg was turning almost before it hit the ground. I distantly heard Ori cry for help but I am ashamed to say that I couldn't bring myself to give _that_ situation my full attention. I was too busy ripping from Bofur's arms(when did he get so close?) and scrambling onto the trunk myself, sword already in my hands and buckler secured on my throbbing arm. Bilbo watched in terror before I saw resolve slam behind his eyes. Again in seemingly slow-motion...Thorin rose and prepared for the next assault. Azog's Warg lept back at Thorin hungrily, but it was Azog's mace that actually caught Thorin's jaw. I heard Thorin's scream, even as I tore down the trunk, slower than I wanted. My ribs were still on fire, my breath rattling my chest painfully. Thorin sank to the ground, screaming as the Warg descended upon him, clamping his jaw on Thorin's ribcage again and again. Thorin couldn't stop screaming out in pain. I roared out in my fury and panic as I lept the remaining distance, sword slashing at the Warg's nose. Fate was with me, it seems, as my stroke landed. The Warg howled in pain and tossed Thorin's body aside, even as Thorin registered my presence, fear flashing across his vision. He was wearing the same expression I had worn back on the branch (fear for someone else's life), but I was already slashing again as the Warg was now focused on me. I hit it's nose again and it stumbled, allowing me to leap out of the range of it's jaws before they could clamp themselves on me. Azog looked unafraid. I gulped, readying my buckler and sword quickly.

"_Bring me the Dwarf's head. This one I shall take care of...myself." _I narrowed my eyes, fury powering my movements. The White Warg's eyes fixed on me, as did it's rider's. It lept, but I was already rolling away, coming up in time to slash at the beast's ribs. I scored a gash, but then the heavy mace crashed into my buckler, sending me back several feet. The sharp edge of my shield crashed into my lip, setting it on fire and my hip was bruised, I feel certain. My chin felt wet and hot as Azog was pinning me down before I could react, and then his hand was around my throat, lifting me into the air. "_Is this the best you can do, little warrior?" _he sneered. _"I can smell the Line of Durin in you. Are you Oakenshield's child?" _I set my jaw, my hand groping for my hidden dagger (hidden in my gauntlet), as my sword had clattered to the ground when Azog lifted me. I gagged and kicked out against my captor, but he was too strong. As my oxygen went out, my struggles got weaker.

=#=#=#=#=

_If_ I had any doubts about either Bilbo or Aili's bravery (which I don't)...this obliterated them. When Thorin charged Azog, I could see fear and desperation grow in her eyes. Bilbo more so. And yet, she tore out of Bofur's arms (since when was he _that_ close to her?) and readied her sword and buckler even as she fairly flew down the trunk (despite her injuries) and Thorin was beaten down by the White Warg's paws. The Warg clamped it's jaws about Thorin's middle just as Aili lept out and was slashing in midair. Bilbo was heaving himself onto the trunk. Aili faced Azog as Bilbo drew his sword. Azog taunted her with another Orc going to take care of her Uncle just as Bilbo took the first tentative steps down the trunk. I was heaving myself up, too, as Azog clamped his hand around Aili's throat. By the time I was running down the trunk, Aili was struggling with increasing feebleness. This was worse than...back _then._

=#=#=#=#=

I gagged, struggling feebly just as my hand clasped around the handle. I slowly drew it out, lest Azog see and take it away. I then suddenly stabbed his hand. He growled in agony, but tossed me back. I thudded into a nearby trunk. My buckler tore a gash across my brow, and sent pain ripping up my side and I collapsed, in too much pain and too exhausted to move. I distantly saw Bilbo stabbing the Orc that had been about to take Uncle's head off. I smiled wearily. Go Bilbo. Bilbo then stumbled back a few steps, ending up facing Azog. His face betrayed his fear, and yet his grip remained steady. My vision was growing more and more hazy as Bilbo swung the sword just like I showed him. His only fault was using two hands. It would have been better if he used one, I mused. I tried to get up, but fell back with a cry of dismay and agony as Azog ordered Bilbo's death. Azog then turned to me, growling darkly. Bilbo blanched and swung the sword a few more times as the Orcs advanced, never moving from in front of Thorin. Azog neared me, but never got to me as the Dwarves of the Company (at least those in the least dangerous positions in the trees) charged down the trunk, and the Orc was forced to attack them. I sagged against the tree, relief making me dizzy and Bilbo's yell reached my ears as he joined in the carnage. Then, there was a very familiar presence, scooping me up and holding me against his sturdy, well-built chest. Bofur...funny. I don't recall seeing him come down the...trunk. Ow. The fire has spread from my lip to my entire body now, but Bofur's presence is comforting, as is the sight of my brothers, fighting alongside Mithra, who turned and (with a yell that nearly set my ears ringing) ran back up the trunk, diving back into the top branches. Bofur's arms wrapped around me as I tried to rise and see what Mia was doing, my heart hammering painfully against my chest. But even breathing was getting too hard and painful now, and I ended up back against him.

"Lay still, lass. Yer too injured." Came his rumbling voice in my ear. I frowned, as I heard several battle cries, and Bilbo's shout seemed louder than the others' (as he was closest to me). He found himself against the White Warg's nose, and he was tossed off unceremoniously, thudding painfully onto the ground. Then, as Bilbo withdrew fearfully toward Uncle, and I tried once more to rise (to no avail) I noticed that Bilbo's gaze was on something behind Azog, terror of something unknown in his eyes. What was he looking at? Bilbo caught my gaze, looking around as several...somethings were making light work of Azog and his men. I still couldn't see properly. Everything was moving too fast. Or was I too close to losing consciousness?

"Look." I barely heard Bilbo mutter, just before something scoops him up and flies away. I then got the answer, but not in the way I wanted (or expected) as some giant thing (my brain is buzzing too much to think right now) clamps it's claws painfully around my arm. Bofur's cry beside me tells me he's in the other clawed hand. Or is this a foot? I was lifted out over the ravine, and my head drained of it's blood. What was going on? Was this a massacre?

Thought was then lost as I was dropped, then I thudded quite painfully on something feathered and hard. I saw stars and black spots, and then Bofur's arms were around me again. I sagged into them as my eyes fluttered shut. I was too tired to keep them open. Just before my senses faded entirely, I distantly heard Bofur cry out in alarm, but there was no way I could come back to full awareness.

=#=#=#=#=

As soon as I had sliced through my third Orc, as well as it's mount, I heard someone screaming from the tree. I turned, and could just make out Dori and Ori starting to slip down, down, down Gandalf's staff. Heart hammering, I tore back up the trunk, not realizing I had yelled, and dove back into the branches, hanging by my toes (OW!) and stretched out as far as possible. But I am not Legolas, my friend from the Woodland Elves, and cannot achieve such a cheap trick of gravity. The frightened Dwarves fell through my fingers and the thin, willowy branch I was hanging from snapped, sending me out into the abyss. I plummeted like a stone toward a harsh death at the bottom.

Then...I wasn't falling anymore. I peeked out of my eyes (not remembering when I had closed them), and found a giant bird, an Eagle, carrying me on it's back. I sagged against it's warm, soft feathers and as it came over the cliff, I saw several more Eagles, either fanning the fire, sending Wargs and their riders into the obvilion, or picking up Dwarves. Bilbo was last. Aili and Bofur had somehow gotten on the same Eagle, and Aili was unconscious. Bofur was shaking her worriedly (but gently; he had seen her injuries) but she didn't respond at all. I leaned forward, growing more worried than ever. Her cold had long since vanished, washed away in adrenaline perhaps, but those injuries...all that blood loss...I set my jaw.

No. Aili was a Princess of Durin (I think that's her title). She was strong. She would make it through. I could see Fili and Kili on a nearby Eagle, gazing at both their sister and Uncle in the uttermost concern. Kili's lip quivered, and it looked like he may cry, but at Fili's hand on his shoulder, he was able to blink the tears back and steady his lip. Fili, though, never let his gaze slip from Thorin. His King. His leader. His...Uncle. Fili even called out to him fearfully, desperately, but it was in vain as the dawn's light revealed that Thorin's limp body hadn't moved yet. Kili leaned out and yelled Aili's name. No response. Tears filled my eyes then as I gazed sadly at the forlorn and desperately sad look on the Durin Brothers' faces. Kili buried his face in his brother's fur-lined shoulder. There was some deep connection between the Heirs of Durin. All of them, even Thorin. I wondered what it was as time was lost on the flight. It seemed deeper than an Uncle and his Sister-sons. No...it was something much deeper. More like a father and his children. I made a note to ask Fili about it later.

=#=#=#=#=

After what seemed like hours and mere minutes all at once, we approached a large rock that reminded me of a bear, head thrown back in a guttural roar. Thorin was released gently, and the Eagle that held Bofur and Aili crouched low to ease departure. Bofur slid to the ground with Aili draped over his sturdy arms. I rushed over, and sucked in my breath sharply. Aili...her lip...her temple...her _body_. There was hardly a square inch of her body that's not covered in blood, a bruise or some other injury. Even in her unconscious state, she looked to be in pain with every breath. Broken and bruised ribs, I knew.

Then...Aili's eyelids fluttered. And again, this time accompanied by a groan. Bofur supported her head in his lap as Fili and Kili raced over right as they dismounted their own Eagle. They fell to their knees beside of their frankly broken sister. Fili cupped Aili's right cheek as Kili stroked her left, and I was struck with a sense of Deja Vu...from my past. I shook those thoughts away immediately.

"Aili! Oh, Mahal!" Fili breathed, wiping the blood off her face. A welcome distraction from my dark thoughts...though he looks much older (sadly) when he's upset.

"By Durin's beard..." Kili gasped, seeing her sunken ribs, fingers hovering over them. I swallowed a sob, my throat feeling too constricted to speak.

"Thorin! Aili!" Gandalf cried, dismounting his eagle and racing over, kneeling before us. "Thorin...Aili..." He tried again, but there was no response. At least, from Thorin. Aili opened her eyes with an audible gasp. She shot up, then barked out in pain, hissing and clutching her ribs, her face scrunched up in pain. She then gazed around wildly. Her eyes found Thorin, and then she was crawling over, and no one could stop her without hurting her, though everyone yelled at her to stop. She tuned us out and heaved her Uncle's head into her lap, stroking Thorin's hair as she sniffled in grief. Fili and Kili stood off awkwardly, unsure how to comfort their sad, forlorn little sister. She gazed up at them with tears brimming and a trembling lip.

"Sorry, guys." She whispered, voice slightly wheezy. Fili and Kili screwed up their faces in confusion.

"Whatever for?" They asked in unison. Aili's smile lost what little cheer it had once possessed. Her lip trembled.

"For scaring you. I don't know what I was thinking, leaping out like I did, and..." She trailed off, one arm around her ribcage. Bilbo was seen off a little ways, tears in his eyes as he beheld the scene in front of him.

=#=#=#=#=

As soon as Gandalf spoke, I was awake, as if summoned- _-commanded- -_to awareness by his mere voice. Maybe I was. Stupid wizard magic. So unexplained. I bolted upright, gasping audibly then my ribs ground together, and sent a fire through me. I barked out in pain, and my hand flew to my side. Wait...

Where was I? Wasn't I back on that clifftop, with those...Eagles flying everywhere? Where am I?

I gazed around wildly, carefully not moving my middle, and then...my breath caught. Tears brimmed and burned in my eyes.

There lay Uncle...unmoving, unresponsive...broken. Blood oozed out onto his armor...and his face somewhat covered in minor injuries, dirt, sweat, and blood. I chew my lip, hating to tune out my friend's (and brothers') words of wisdom. But not a word of what they were saying mattered as I crawled over and held my Uncle's head in my lap, smoothing down Uncle's hair, hoping for a reaction. Nothing. I then suddenly remembered that my uncle was not the only one worried for me.

My poor brothers...they stood a little ways off, and I felt guilt sink into my stomach as I lifted my head, sniffling slightly, tears forming. I gave Fili and Kili as reassuring a smile as I could muster.

"Sorry, guys." I whispered...my throat too constricted to speak louder. Fili and Kili looked back at me in pure confusion.

"Whatever for?" They asked together. How could they _not_ be mad at me for basically neglecting them...worrying them...my smile lost whatever cheer it once held.

"For scaring you." I sniffled. "I don't know what I was thinking, leaping out like I did, and..." I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I let my voice trail off...and Gandalf chose that moment to press his hand over Thorin's eyes, and let his eyes close. I heard him muttering something under his breath...and Thorin's chest heaved. His eyelids fluttered, and Fili and Kili moved in to be there when Thorin opened his eyes...Gandalf's eyes widened and he smiled warmly down at the Dwarf King in my lap. Whose grey blue eyes drifted up to me, and they moistened with tears. A ghost of a smile touched his lips.

"Aili..." He whispered, blinking owlishly up at me. I shushed him. "I-"

"Save your breath, Uncle." His hand moved to the one I had resting idly on his chest. His eyes betrayed his remorse and regret.

"Forgive me. I shouldn't have been so strident." He then have off a small cough. I gave a weak chuckle, ignoring the painful fire that raged inside me. Thorin was far more important than my own pain.

"Uncle...I earned that. It was truly not my place to speak out at you like I did." I said, tears slipping free to slash on Thorin's forehead. "It is me who should be begging _your_ forgiveness." Uncle's hand roamed slowly up to my cheek, and his thumb wiped my tears away gently. The back of his fingers dry my other eye. He was smirking sadly at me.

"You're a good Sister-daughter, Aili. Far better than this stubborn old Dwarf deserves." Then, a thought seemed to occur to him. His breath caught subtly. "The Half-Ling?" He asked, eyes once more on Gandalf. So he _had_ seen Bilbo's act of selfless bravery back there. Good. Gandalf's smile deepened.

"It's alright. Bilbo is here. He's quite safe." Bilbo sighed, rolling his eyes. Thorin made a move to get up, propped up on his elbow. Dwalin and Kili helped him the rest of the way. Bofur was slipping his hands under me and hauling me gently up before I could protest. His hands retreated as soon as I stood on my own two feet. Thorin shook off the helping hands, and sent an indecipherable look Bilbo's way. I suddenly remembered that Thorin has trouble expressing gratitude, worry, or any emotion outwardly, really. I grimaced and gulped, unsure what the Hobbit was in for...

"You. What were you doing?" Ah. So it's Mr. Angry-Rants that shows himself (I have a nickname for every side of my uncle.). Bilbo gulped, looking a little hurt and confused. I bit my lip, debating whether or not to rise to Bilbo's defense. The Half-Ling looked ready to speak, but Thorin beat him to it. "You nearly got yourself killed!" Bilbo blanched, clearly misunderstanding Thorin's words. Bilbo gazed around, avoiding Thorin's gaze like the plague, hurt evident in his eyes. He blinked several times. "Did I not say that you would be a burden?" Okay...even for _Thorin_, this seems like overkill. He must be _really_ emotional right now. Unfortunately, Bilbo doesn't get that, shuffling his feet, and staring at the ground dejectedly. I was struck with a desire to hug Bilbo then and there. "That you would not survive in the Wild?" By now, Thorin was approaching the Hobbit (who's as pale as a sheet, anxiety and trepidation written clearly on his face), expression stony and unreadable. No one spoke. Thorin's face then softened, and he did something then that he hadn't done in a long time...

He _hugged_ Bilbo. "I have never been so wrong in all my life."

=#=#=#=#=

I guess now I know what Aili means by 'the devil when he wants to be' (Aili had told me about her uncle on the road before the mountain range we had just left *cue shudder* behind his back). I had thought Thorin meant what he was saying to poor, pale Bilbo, and then...the hug threw me off. "I have never been so wrong in all my life." Thorin confessed. Bilbo looked shocked, the hurt fading as quickly as it had appeared in his eyes. He blinked several times before awkwardly returning the hug, chuckling, giddy with relief. Fili cleared his throat, and nodded toward a relatively secluded area. I walked over.

"Fili?" He was scratching his head, as if nervous. He licked his lips.

"...Uh...I jes' wanted to say...'m sorry." I blinked, unused to this kind of...well, _friendliness_. Not since...I left Gandalf. I took a few breaths to think of what I should- -_could_\- -reply with.

"What?" Was all that came out. Curse me for a donkey's bottom! Fili smiled nervously.

"F-fer...being so stupid. I distracted you on the tree, and you could've fallen..."

"I did, until an Eagle caught me." I muttered under my breath. Fili scoffed.

"W-what?" I blushed.

"Oh, nothing. I just...was trying to say that I shouldn't have been so dead-set on keeping ahead of you back there in Goblin-Town. I could have led you into a trap, and then the others wouldn't have been able to do anything. We would've still been down there." I shrugged. "That's all." Fili smiled. He held out his hand.

"We good? No more challenges?" I subconsciously flinch, managing to nod. I have been avoiding physical contact as much as possible since I got away from..._him. _If Fili notices, he doesn't say anything, and retracts his hand. I clear my throat.

"You think Aili's gonna be okay? Or even Thorin? They were both hurt pretty bad." Fili chuckled.

"I was worried, until I caught sight of Gandalf. Then I thought 'if anybody could help them, Gandalf could' and then I could at least put on a brave face for Kili."

"He means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

"Of course. Aili and Thorin, as well." I may as well've asked him if birds dominated the skies. I chuckled and suddenly wanted to ask about that connection now, but then the Company started moving down the rock via a trail of steps cut into it, and Aili gave a sharp shriek as Bofur scooped her up again (bridal style, I was quick to note), laughing like a madman.

"Bofur! Let me go!" She cried (it really sounded like more of a whine), but couldn't struggle too fiercely without hurting herself. She laughed lightly (I guess her ribs hurt too much to properly laugh) and dramatically threw her arm over her eyes. Probably to cover the wince she gave off.

=#=#=#=#=

"I am sorry I doubted you." Thorin said honestly, remorse flickering across his vision. That's the thing with my Uncle. Once he gets over his initial gruffness and nervousness about outwardly expressing emotion, he gives you the most sincere apologies you'll ever hear. Bilbo chuckled.  
"N-no. I would have doubted me, too." Bilbo replied, grinning. "I'm not a hero, or a warrior." He slid a sly grin at Gandalf. "Not even a burglar." I smiled fondly at the Half-Ling, shaking my head.

"Well...you are certainly worthy of the first title. Maybe even the second, and the third will come in time, I feel certain." Bilbo just laughed, rolling his eyes. Just then, Thorin glanced in awe and reverence at something behind him. We turned walk a little ways forward and gaze at the faraway, solitary peak, off in the distance. Then, the others started talked about thrushes and good omens, but I was too busy following Bofur aside. He was smiling nervously. I blinked.

"Bofur?" He cleared his throat.

"H-how's yer...yer ribs?"

"Fine enough fer now." He chuckled. I could hear sadness in it.

"Don't lie to me, Aili. Yeh passed out on the Eagle." He then sniffled, his eyes darkening in sadness. "I was worried. I thought I lost yeh." My jaw went a little slack. I blinked several times.

"I-I...I'm sorry. I just...wasn't thinking." Bofur grinned suddenly.

"Like back then, eh?" I chuckled, eying him with confusion.

"To what are you referring?" Bofur's grin grew wider.

"Oh, I'm just recalling a lovely little lass who ran around Ered Luin, driving her Uncle and Mother mad with all the things she, and 'er two brothers, would do...dragging me along fer the ride..." I smiled warmly at him. _I thought I lost yeh_. I pushed that thought away for further consideration later.

"I have no idea what yer talking about!"

"I think yeh do!"

"OW!"

"Oops. Sorry." Bofur retracted his arm, grinning sheepishly. "Caught up in the moment." He had this annoying habit of poking my ribs suddenly when we bicker. But then, he got a cheeky grin, just as the Company started walking back toward the trail leading down the rock. I turned on my heel, and started to walk toward the trail. _I thought I lost yeh._ Why does that keep popping up?! Then...Bofur started chuckling and raced forward, scooping me up before I could move out of his way.

"Bofur!" I cried, "Let me go!" By now, Bofur was laughing like a madman. However, I couldn't resist without moving my middle, so I just laughed lightly, and threw my arms over my shoulder to hide the pain of laughter from everyone.

"Not a chance!" Bofur roared heartily, now slowing to a walk. "I'm not lettin' yeh outta meh sight again!" I was struck with a fleeting stroke of guilt. _I thought I lost yeh._ I chewed my lip, and didn't remove my hand until I had blinked back the tears that were welling up. When I did, I found that we were nearly down the rock, and Bofur was panting slightly. I squirmed as forcefully as I could, protesting again, but (once more) to no avail. Bofur merely grunted and gently heaved me higher until the Company was down the rock and tucked into a small clearing amongst a nearby peak's numerous folds. He gently let me down on a boulder, leaning me against a tree trunk. I heaved a sigh.

"Thanks, Bofur." Bofur grinned.

"Don't mention it. I'm happy to help you." He mumbled, and I could feel heat coming from his cheek. Then, his hands strayed to my lower back, fingers curling around my shirt. I flinched, straightening then wincing when the movement hurt. His hands instantly retreated. "Sorry, Aili!" He squeaked. "I just...Oin is starting to treat the others. You and Thorin need it the most." I shook my head, although I was now panting. _I thought I lost yeh_. If I wasn't breathless before...I was now. What in Mahal was wrong with me? I shook my head to clear it and rebut Bofur's words at the same time.

"No. Everyone's injured. I can just sit here and breath. It helps somewhat." It was a pretty pathetic lie, and Bofur frowned, seeing right through it.

"I will drag you over there, and keep you there until Oin had done his work if you don't come willingly." Bofur's voice betrayed his determination and worry. Fili and Kili had not left my side, either. They just stood a little ways off into the distance. Bofur seemed to realize my brothers' intentions, and moved away. I found my hand itching to hold him back. Fili was suddenly cupping my left cheek as Kili hugged my right side, distracting me from blushing.

"OUCH!" I screamed when Kili squeezed me too hard. Kili retreated, looking fearful and concerned. His hands hovered inches from my ribcage, as if he was worried I might break into pieces if he touches me. I bit my lip. "Kili, I-I'm s-sorry. It's just...it hurts." Bofur frowned, but he was probably happy I was opening up underneath that look. I cringed. _I thought I lost yeh._ I had just made my fragility overly evident. There would be _no_ getting away from Oin now. Resigned, I held out my hands. My brothers eagerly gripped my wrists, carefully dragging me to my feet. They slid their shoulders under my arms, and I didn't have time to even feel mortified as I was fairly flown toward Oin, who was just helping Thorin get his tunic off. I glanced back to find Bofur trailing behind, worried expression plastered on his face. Oin jumped when I came swooping in on the wings of my brothers.

"Lads, yeh scared me, yeh little rascals!" I hadn't looked at Fili and Kili as they bore me to the old healer, but I did now. I found worry and concern reigning supreme with only the barest traces of their usual sparkle. I felt guilty once more for worrying them. They hovered until Oin barked at them to leave. Bofur refused to, however, no matter how strident Oin was. _I thought I lost yeh._ It was just as well. I couldn't get my shirt off without igniting a raging fire in my chest. So it was with red-faced hesitancy and much blushing that I allowed Bofur to gently remove my backpack's straps. Funny. I had forgotten about it, ever since that rainstorm in the mountains. No wonder my ribs broke. After my pack was settled with the others', Bofur unclasped my armored vest, tossing it a short distance away.

"Ouch!" I cried as Bofur was peeling the vest off. Bofur winced. His hands stopped moving.

"Sorry, lass." I blushed.

"You really don't havta-"

"Aili...You can barely _breath_ right now, much less...uh..._undress_. Just let me _do_ this!" I could hear Bofur's nervousness under his breath. He was as awkward as me, but Oin had refused my brothers' offers to assist. I guess he thought they were too inexperienced or something...

Now all that remained was my thinner, cotton, emerald-colored tunic, and I was startled to see how much of it was now coated in the sticky red blood that had started to dry by now. We still had a little while to wait as Oin handled Thorin, who was stubbornly refusing to let Oin treat him, arms crossed over his chest.

"Fer Durin's sake, Thorin! Will yeh just let me.."

"I'm well enough! Tend to-"

"No! Yeh can't just cast your own health aside. Now sit still." Glowering, Uncle did as he was told. Bofur turned back to me. He sucked in his breath...I waited for an accusation as to why I let myself get this bad. Surprisingly, none came.

"Blimey, Aili...yer one tough lass..." He breathed, sounding ready to start sobbing. His fingers barely touched my ribs, and yet I hissed.

"Th-that's what I was trained to do. Withstand pain. Work...work through it." I said, but it was getting harder due to my fiery ribcage. Bofur's eyes flickered with extreme sadness. I could also see hurt behind those warm chocolate eyes.

"That don't mean yeh should hide it, Aili. If you do...we..._I_ could lose you." I think this is a record for 'how many times Bofur used my real name in a single conversation.' However, Bofur's words played through my mind...troubling me greatly.

_**I** could lose you. _

What did he mean by that?

"Bofur..." I breathed, not noticing that his hands were smoothing my cheeks, easing the tears away. If I did, a shiver would have run down my spine. "I...I'm...so-sorry." I whimpered, tears spilling forth faster than Bofur could wipe them away. He crouched in front of me, one hand drifting down to rest on the top of my left thigh. He smiled through his own tears at me.

"'tis not yer fault. I was jes'...worried." Again with that word. _Worried. _

_**I **could lose you._

What did all this mean? And why, when he said those worried words, did my heart break? More so than normal? Oin cleared his throat and shifted his feet. I only now realized that our faces were mere inches apart. I leaned back into the trunk. I barely felt Oin gently removing my tunic as soon as Bofur had turned his back. I was staring out into space, too numb from exhaustion to feel the burning blush in my cheeks. In fact, the next thing I was truly aware of (besides small aches and flickers of that strange fire in my chest) was Fili and Kili heaving me off to settle me down on my bedroll. My tunic was somehow back on. But before that fact could even register properly...I was out like a light. If I could have opened my eyes, I would have seen both Bofur's and my brothers' tears, with Thorin standing only a short distance away, his lower lip trembling, and not from his own pain.

**WOW. THIS CHAPTER IS LONGER (_MUCH_ LONGER) THAN I THOUGH IT WOULD BE, BUT I NEEDED TO FIND A GOOD ENDING POINT. FIGURED THIS WAS AS GOOD AS ANY. ANYWAY...THERE IS AN EPILOGUE IN THE WORKS. IT'LL BE UP SOON. LOVE Y'ALL AND CAN'T WAIT TO READ ANY AND ALL LOVELY REVIEWS YOU CAN SPARE THE TIME TO SEND ME! I AM ANXIOUSLY LOOKING FORWARD TO THE GUESSES AS TO MITHRA'S SECRET...**

**TIL NEXT TIME! **


	10. AuJ Epilogue: Love and Healing

**HERE IS THE PROMISED EPILOGUE, WITH THE PROMISED ROMANCE. STILL NOT TELLIN' YA WHICH COUPLE, THOUGH. **

**BY THE BY...I HAVE SHIP NAMES FOR MY LOVELY LITTLE COUPLES.**

**BAILI=BOFUR/AILI**

**FIA=FILI/MITHRA(/MIA)**

**ANYWAY...AS IS USUAL...**

**GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!**

**~LF221**

I woke to a stuffy head and pounding ribs. I felt as if I were stuffed with lead. Pain throbbed through my chest, but not as intense as before. I opened my eyes slowly, and found that it was hardly dawn yet. More like the morning's equivalent of twilight, when there's light, but no sun yet. I made to sit up, and found a pair of strong arms draped over my chest haphazardly. On my right lay Fili, and to my left slept Kili, each with one arm over me protectively. I could see the redness around their eyes from where I lay. I frowned. Had they been crying?

Whoa...now I felt even worse about worrying them, seeing poor Kili's frown. He gave off small, almost childish whimpers occasionally, his fist twitching, as if trying to tighten around my tunic. Even Fili looked sad in his slumber. When I moved, Kili's hand clasped my tunic tighter, and a slightly louder whimper sounded. Fili's frown deepened, but he made no move to resist me. I smiled through my sudden brimming tears. Always the heavy sleeper, Fili. However, it pained me to pry Kili's fingers (I was treated to another heart-wrenching whimper) and slowly heave myself to my own two feet, my ribs flaring painfully as I did so. Even so...I had a breakfast to prepare before we hit the road. Bofur was already awake, and after I had slipped my armored vest on, I found that Bofur was gazing unblinkingly, right at me again. Still practically half-asleep, I was feeling irritable, and my ribs were _not_ helping my mood.

"Enjoying the view?" I muttered, sitting beside him and setting rocks around the fire to make toast in a minute. Bofur sighed. Sad to say...he was used to my temper by now. A surge of remorse and guilt overcame me.

"Mornin' to you, too, Aili." There he goes again. Using my first name. Since we were little, growing up together, forming a deep friendship despite the fact that he was a bit older (a fact I could always easily overlook. He did, too) he has been calling me 'lass' or 'little/young lady', if he used a title at all. Then he had sought out an apprenticeship with his cousin, Bifur, and was out of the picture for several years, him and Bombur.

And now that Thorin was bringing everyone together...it thrust Bofur back into my life again, and I found myself almost desperate to keep him near. For the rest of time, until eternity in the halls of Mahal. I sighed, staring into the crackling fire peacefully. My mind can be a confusing place sometimes...since when have I been thinking these kind of thoughts about Bofur?

"I'm sorry, Bofur...I truly am." I whispered, not daring to wake anyone else. I had something to say, something to confess to my childhood friend, and him alone. No one else must hear this. Bofur's hand was running up my back as quickly as the shiver descended. "I...I jes'..." I but my lip. _Just say it, Aili!_ "I worried about you, too, and...I feel guilty about worrying you in the first place." Bofur's hand squeezed my shoulder. I trailed off.

"Aili...why do you think I have followed you everywhere you go when I'm around? Because I worry. I worry about you even when yer not around." I blinked. I could scarcely breath...Bofur sat himself right beside me as my head emptied of its blood all of a sudden. His hands clasped mine, and I swallowed. "Yeh don't know it, but the reason I worry is because I would _die_ if anything happened to you. Yer my...greatest friend, Aili," He said, like he wanted to say something else, but barely caught himself in time, "and though I haven't been around as much as I wanted...I hope I can make up for it somehow..." He trailed off. My breath hitched. Bofur really needs to stop beating himself up...

"You just did." I whispered, and not to avoid waking somebody. It was due to the heavy lump forming in my throat. "In fact, no matter what, I can never really keep my mind off you, either." I admitted, playing with a braid that ran down onto my shoulders. It had come a bit loose during our flight from Goblin-Town and...everything after that. I redid it almost without thought. Bofur seemed shocked at my words. "It's just been little things, really. I'll see a certain toy I thought you might like, and think of your smile." Once the floodgates were opened, it seemed, there was no closing them. "Or when merchants came in, and you and yer cousin aren't among them, I would wonder about you, and remember all the times you would stand up for me when others thought that I was too small to be a warrior in my training." Bofur smiled.

"That's a lot like me. I see a toy, and wish I had the money to get it for you, as a peace-offering when we next met." I shook my head.

"Peace offerings aren't necessary." I said.

"I feel they are, but I just hope that I haven't screwed things up between us..." _Nope. In fact, they've gotten stronger_, I wanted to say but managed a meager, "It hasn't." Bofur grinned that special, elated grin. My heart skipped a beat. His smile was warm and infectious. I couldn't help but return it.

"How's Dis? What does she think about all this?" I chuckled.

"She's the same old grumpy Dwarrowdam. Just as feisty as ever. She still doesn't like the idea of us being on the Quest." I answered, waving to my sleeping brothers. "She would rather have us stay with her." Bofur nodded again.

"Hmm...If I had children goin' on a dangerous Quest...I'd probably want them to stay, as well." By now, we were sitting on the ground, leaning against the rock we had originally been sitting on. Bofur's arm slid over my shoulder, and I play with my braid again, fixing it (although it was already perfect) as I try to hide my scarlet cheeks. He nuzzled the side of my head, his beard tickling my temple. I giggled softly. I then turned to him, face suddenly serious.

"Bofur...did you mean it when you said you would die if something happened to me?" My heart was in my throat, and a small part of me was wondering how I could still talk. Bofur's grin faltered.

"Aye." He said gravely, smile now gone. "Deathly serious." His eye twitched, as if wary of where I was going with this, but also eager to find out. I swallowed thickly. "Why'd yeh ask?" I gulped, trying to alleviate my dry throat.

"Because..." I took a moment to really think about my intentions. Was this just spur-of-the-moment? Or was it genuine? Then, I realized that I didn't need any more thought on the subject. I was sure. I opened my mouth again. "I would, too." And, as we had been talking, I had noticed that more often than not my gaze halted on his lips as it searched his face. They were slightly chapped. I thought of how they formed his deep, rumbling words, his enchanting smiles, his grins, everything that made Bofur _Bofur_ seemed to come from those lips. Feverishly, I wondered how they tasted. Bofur eyed me curiously. His eyes caught where mine had gone, and his gaze softened, and there seemed to be a happy fire dancing behind those enchanting brown eyes as his his face neared mine. I screwed up my courage and slid my face closer as well, feverish heat encasing my cheeks, spreading everywhere.

Then...our lips met. It sent a wild, unkempt energy surging into me, a fierce and altogether new feeling of pure _love_ making my thoughts run wild, then get lost on their way to being complete as Bofur's fingers curled in my hair, my hands curled at the back of Bofur's chest, and we pulled ourselves deeper into the kiss. All too soon, we had to break apart to breathe. My heart had never pounded so loudly, or so longingly, it seemed. Bofur's eyes held a dreamy look.

"I've been wantin' to do that fer a while...my Aili." He whispered, his hand moving a stray strand of hair behind my ear. My hair must be a fright. A shiver went up my spine as Bofur's hand tickled my ear, cutting any thought of how I looked off mid-way.

_**His**__ Aili. I think I like the sound of that..._ Was the last coherent thought I completed before our lips met again in a passionate kiss. Bofur poured his cheer, his worry and concern, his very _being_ into the kiss. His hands wrapped around my waist, pulling me in tighter again. My hands went around his neck, and we stayed like that until we couldn't breathe again. Our hands remained where they were, and our foreheads met. His breath was hot and somewhat moist against my face. It felt good...

"It's funny. The older I got..." I panted. "the more I wanted you around. Recently, you've been making me blush and I've felt a shiver up my spine at your very touch. I guess I wanted more." I breathed, my forehead nuzzling against Bofur's hatted forehead. It felt so _right_...I couldn't bring myself to think of any reasons we shouldn't do this. Our lips met again. I was now certain that it was possible to get drunk off love.

Then, when we broke apart, I saw Mia, just starting to awaken. I prayed she hadn't heard all that...

=#=#=#=#=

Ever since last night...I've been so worried about Aili. But now that she has been treated by Oin himself (he is held in extreme reverence for his abilities) and is curled against her brothers, breathing evenly and deeply in slumber (or rather, as evenly as possible, given her ribs), I can ease my fears. She is fine now. With that thought, I drifted off to sleep.

And then, I heard a whispered, hushed conversation that woke me up. I was too awake to return to the fields of dreams and found that it was Aili and Bofur, starting the morning fire and getting breakfast ready. Funny how often they do that now...

And they were talking of peace-offerings, and their mutual worry. And then...came a confession that rocked my world.

"Bofur...did you really mean it when you said you'd die if something happened to me?" I forced myself to keep my breathing as even as it was in sleep. This was so new to me...

"Aye. Deathly serious." Came the grave reply. "Why'd yeh ask?" I heard Aili gulp.

"Because...I would, too." Then, silence reigned, save for the sounds of love. It's truly...odd to listen to. I have never given the thought of love much consideration.

But if I did...Bright blue eyes and cocky grins flashed across my vision, and I nearly recoiled as Aili nervously muttered from behind me. I swallowed, and now my breath was slightly shaky. What was that?! Of _course_ I would _never_ look at Fili that way! _Never_! I just...can't. Because of what..._he_ did. I once looked to _him_ that way, filled with love, when I was but a child, but then..._he_ changed, and then...voices rang in my head, and glass shattered around me...

My left hand moved automatically to my right arm, rubbing it before letting my arm go limp to rest over the small curve of my hip, the sound of shattering glass and drunken shouting filling my ears. Me and Gandalf were the only ones who knew what was kept hidden under my shirt, but _only_ the two of us were _ever_ allowed to know. No one else...especially Fili...he...they wouldn't understand. Then, I snapped back to reality and realized that Aili had seen my arm move.

Grunting, I sat up, pulling on my boots and turning to find Bofur and Aili, both faces burning bright, sitting as close as they could without suspicion of what had happened. They couldn't stop smiling, though they tried as my gaze found them. My dark mood fled in their light, and I found myself relaxed.

"Good morning." I said, faking a yawn and stretching as I came over. "What's cooking?" Aili moved to flip the pieces of bread on hot rocks around the fire. Bofur's arm encased Aili's shoulders as she leaned back against the rock the couple had been leaning against when I woke up.

"Toast with boiled eggs with sausage." She said, and I could hear the laughter, giddy and bright, flowing from her voice. I forced my expression to remain neutral as the couple's hands found one another when they thought I wasn't looking. This was too adorable, and yet foreign to me at the same time. I found the kettle I had been looking for to make some coffee. Soon enough, at the smell of food, the Company came one by one and got their serving, chatting and laughing. Several of them were bruised, and even more had more than half their normally exposed skin covered in bandages. And yet...here we are...chatting, joking and laughing. It's...nice. I haven't felt this kind of friendliness since Gandalf and I parted ways. I hadn't realized...just how much I missed it.

=#=#=#=#=

As soon as Mia sat up, me and Bofur slid just as far apart as we used to sit. However, neither of us can stop smiling and our cheeks are still burning. And when Mia gazed around at us, we tried to force the smiles to simmer down a little, at least, but...it couldn't happen. We were shining too brightly. I felt almost drunk off love as our hands met. Mia searched for a kettle to get some coffee going. There was still a good portion of Bilbo's jar left, and Mia had managed to get Elvin coffee, a smooth, almost fruity liquid that seemed to dance it's way down your throat. I quite enjoy it, especially when mixed with Bilbo's Shire coffee. Then, it's practically irresistible.

At the mere smell of the food and drink, the Dwarves wake, tickling over to get their breakfast. Surprisingly, Uncle was the last one up. Usually, he's the first one up, long before us. Not today, though. I ask how he's doing, and he replied that he's fine in a clipped tone. Which probably meant that he was hiding a lot of pain. I felt for him. It can't be easy on him. That Warg bite was nasty. And easily infected, according to Oin. The wizened old healer sought me out during breakfast. In fact, before I had gotten my plate.

"Aili," He started. "I know yeh were too outta it last night to listen proper. So I'll tell yeh now: no gallivanting about, no strenuous activity. Relax those ribs as often as possible, lass. We need yeh well." Oin squeezed my shoulder goodnaturedly. _More specifically, Bofur needs me well._

I thought, but kept it to myself. Oin continued, my brothers hovering nearby for a few seconds before they suddenly came forward and grasped my wrists, dragging me away.  
"We'll make sure she doesn't do something she shouldn't, Oin. Lay off!" Kili called back, laughing. They sat me on a log, pressing a plate that they had saved for me and a mug of coffee into my hands. I ate hungrily, then started to slow down, my ribs flaring again. I then pretended not to as hungry as I thought so as to avoid any more worrying about me. But I kept picking at my food while chatting and laughing. We spent the rest of the day milling about, and I found a fairly large stream to bathe in and soak my wounds, relishing in the feeling of allowing water to run through my hair, and over my body, washing away everything that clung to my body. I came back to the camp with Mithra close behind (I had told Mia about the stream right after I found it and she followed me without hesitation), and we were confronted by Oin, who wasn't too happy at having to re-wrap my ribcage. As he did, I re-braided my hair, clasping it securely before letting the rest fall naturally. At one point during dinner, Bilbo excused himself and left without another word. Growing concerned (and unwilling to let him think he's not welcome here. Not like at Rivendell...) I stalked after him, keeping in mind Oin's stern warning to keep my ribcage relaxed. I found him a short distance away, his back to me as he neared the edge of the campsite. He was trembling. Without thought, I raced forward. My hand was on his shoulder before he could react.

"Bilbo?" A sniffle, then a sigh. "What's the matter?" Another sniffle. He was vibrating under my hand. My eyes went wide. I knew what was wrong all of a sudden. First-Killing-Shakes. Mine had been pretty bad. I killed a bandit on the road that had been nearing a sleeping Fili. For at least ten minutes, I was mute, blind and deaf to the world as Thorin and my brothers tried (and failed) to snap me back to reality. I still feel guilty for the hurt, and worried expressions on their faces.

A hiccuping sob rent me from my reveries and back to reality. Bilbo was shaking me with the intensity of his sobbing. I pulled him into a hug, knowing he was all but unresponsive, and dropped to the ground, slipping the trembling Hobbit easily into my lap. He buried his face in my shoulder.

"Does it get easier?" He asked shakily after several silent moments. I pursed my lips, deep in thought.

"I...suppose. Over time. But even Thorin still has nightmares sometimes. Most likely." Bilbo hiccuped again, and his fists clenched in my tunic, almost painfully.

"But does this shaky feeling go away?"

"Yes. It does."

"I just...the Orc looked almost scared as my s-sword...as I..."

"Bilbo...do you want to know what happened at my first killing?" I felt the Hobbit nod.

"I was worse than you. I collapsed, and couldn't stop shaking and sobbing for several minutes. And even then, it took at least ten more minutes for me to fully come out of it."

"What was your first killing?" He asked timidly.

"I..."My shoulders slumped. This little Hobbit was too curious for his own good... "If this becomes too much, squeeze me and I'll stop, okay?" Once again, Bilbo nodded into my collarbone. I licked my lips.

"We were traveling to an outlaying village on the borders of Rohan, to trade our metal works for food and other supplies. One night, I was awoken by shuffling noises. Thinking it was just Fili getting a mid-night meal- -he's fairly well-know for those, but don't tell him that came from me- -I sat up slowly, reluctant to be awake. And then...I found three bandits, and one of them was pressing his blade to Fili's sleeping throat, ready to slice. I barely noticed the steel against my own neck as I rolled up, and grabbed my sword. Before I knew it, the bandit was laying on the ground. Decapitated. As my brothers and Thorin dealt with the others, my vision tunneled until all I saw was that body. I suddenly felt dizzy and nauseated. I sank to the ground, shaking in terror at my own actions. It wasn't until Kili threw a very cold bucket of water over my head that I came out of my shock. I found Thorin and Fili kneeling before me, terror and worry etched deep in their faces. I had been unresponsive for over ten minutes." Bilbo was still shaking, but didn't squeeze me. I admired his bravery. "And when you...took care of that Orc..." Bilbo's hands trembled, and a sob wracked his frame. "and didn't melt down right then...yer already on yer way to getting over this." I said, with a surprisingly strong hint of sadness. Bilbo picked up on it.

"Aili? You alright?" I smiled, and kissed the top of his little head.

"Oh, Bilbo...I just don't want you to become like my uncle, such a cold and borderline impassive warrior. That's all." Bilbo gave a weak little snort.

"Oh, don't you worry. That'll never happen."

"Let's hope not." We stayed where we were until Bilbo cleared his throat.

"I'm alright now, Aili. Thanks." Nodding, I got up and led the poor half-asleep little Hobbit back into the camp. It was nearing the end of twilight. My brothers and Bofur looked up as we walked in. The three of them seemed to put two and two together, and knew not to bother me for details yet. Bilbo leaned his head into my shoulder as I crouched (still supporting the Hobbit, and my ribs _hated_ me right now...) and spread Bilbo's bedroll out, laying him on it to murmured thanks, but then the Half-Ling was asleep. Chuckling, I stood, stroked a final piece of hair out of Bilbo's face, and left to talk to my brothers and Bofur. At closer look, I saw Thorin there, looking stony as always, but the stone was at least somewhat warmed as a smile played on his lips as he puffed at his pipe. My brothers were smoking, as well. Thorin suddenly got serious as I sat down, warming myself by the fire, pulling out my pipe and lighting it, sighing as I took the first puff. Bofur seemed to sense (as I did) a family conversation starting, and politely kept his distance. I frowned. Bofur shouldn't be so afraid to join in...especially given this morning...and a few stolen moments during the day, when we'd sit together, occasionally kissing and merely drinking up each other's love.

"Aili." Uncle said, to draw my attention. I snapped my head in his direction. "How are your injuries healing?" I smiled. Uncle worries too much.

"Just fine. Much better after Oin's treatment, whatever he did." I said, shrugging slightly. Okay...my ribs ache a little, but I wasn't lying about anything. I can handle the pain, and they did feel a good deal better after Oin's treatment. Thorin nodded, satisfied with my answer. I glanced back to Bofur to find his disbelieving stare. I gulped. He was always able to see right through me. Then, Thorin snapped me back to reality with his deep voice.

"Good. I'm afraid we can't afford to rest here any longer. Although the Eagles lent us much ground over Azog, rest assured he will press his troupe hard. We can't afford to waste our advantage." I nodded. Of course not! Why would Thorin even consider...oh. He's worried I won't be able to travel. I chewed my lip. How _was_ I going to wear my pack (one of the few that made it out of Goblin-Town) _all day long_, heaving it along on my back?

I'll just have to suck it up, I guess. I can and _will_ do it.

"Yes, Uncle. I'll be ready to move." I said crisply, trying not to show how much the thought of what was to come worried me. Uncle sighed, but got up to check on the others. Fili and Kili settled themselves beside me.

"Yer not really thinking about traveling with yer pack on, are you?" I narrowed my eyes.

"What of it?" Kili scoffed.

"'What of it'?!" He repeated. "Aili...at this rate...you are going to run yourself into the ground before we get past these _mountains_! You _can't_ wear your pack!" He hissed, not willing to make a scene. I finally decided to allow my worry to show. Kili understood my position.

"What other choice do I have, Ki?" I asked, "It's not like I can just keep my pack on a pony. We don't _have_ any. I _have no other choice_!" Fili frowned, hand on my shoulder.

"Sis...how bad is it?" I frowned.

"Um...not too bad if nothing touches my ribcage, but...it still flares hotly when I touch it. So...if I have to carry something that heavy against my back, and by extension my ribs, all day..." I grimace, thinking of the ramifications.

"So I'll carry your pack." I shook my head.

"No. I _can_ do it...but it won't be pleasant."

"Or healthy." Fili shot back. I glower at him.

"It's not like I'll be _running_ all day! Even Uncle wants to take it as slow as possible. I'll be fine." And with that, I stalk off to retrieve my bedroll, and am shocked to realize that Bofur must have carried me with my pack on the whole way down the rock. I gazed back and find his soft, dreamy gaze trained on me. He smirked, and I smirked back, remembering earlier that day...the taste of sausage (he had cooked one up to munch on while he prepared the rest of the food) and pipe-smoke on his lips...His strong arms pulling me closer, the way his arms held me. A flicker of guilt flitted through me again at being carried the whole way down the rock. Bofur's words the first time he ever carried me ring through my head then.

"_Don't be silly, lass. Yer light enuff. Don't you worry none."_

That was what he'd say whenever I raised a protest against him heaving me up in his strong arms. He'd laugh and wave me off, but I could see how much energy was spent in carrying me. I'm not the tiny little dwarrowdam I once was. But...neither was Bofur. He, too, has grown stronger and more capable. I shouldn't worry so much about him...but I can't help it.

He is my heart's One. I can feel it.

And after our kiss...we have realized that we are each other's One. This may be sappy, probably even unoriginal, but...it feels like we were meant to get together.

That we were made for each other.*sigh*

And with that thought, I laid down and was asleep before I knew it. Warm, chocolate colored brown eyes and bearded grins flitted through my dreams.

**WOW. THIS WAS LONGER THAN I THOUGHT! **

**I WAS MEANING JUST TO ADD IN THE ROMANCE, BUT THEN I HAD AN IDEA THAT WAS NEGLECTED IN THE MOVIE. **

**I MEAN...THAT WAS BILBO'S _FIRST BATTLE_, FER MAHAL'S SAKE! IT'S NOT LIKE HE'D BE COMEPLETELY FINE WITH IT! OKAY...YOU DO SEE HINTS AT HIS REACTIONS (right after he stabs the Warg, and he's just staring off into space), BUT I JUST WISH THAT PETER JACKSON HAD INCLUDED SOME FORM OF A BREAKDOWN (NOT LIKE, GO ALL MENTAL AND EVERYTHING, JUST...SHOW HOW MUCH THAT FIRST KILL AFFECTED HIM). THAT'S ALL! **

**ANYWAY...SEE YA NEXT TIME! **


End file.
